


A Reckoning, Frustrated

by SinNotAlone



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Blood, Bondage, Choking, Collars, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Masochism, Minor Character Death, Orgasm Denial, Painful Sex, Poor Life Choices, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Sadism, Spanking, Tattoos, Undernegotiated Kink, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinNotAlone/pseuds/SinNotAlone
Summary: Jack nearly kills the man he once loved. Left to care for the mess he’s made, Jack learns that time hasn’t been kind to Gabe either. One thing time hasn’t changed is the pull between them, but Jack would be a fool to let Gabe hurt him again.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 20
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags are added for all chapters.

Reaper waited, shotgun in each hand, behind a pallet stacked high with crates.

Jack had spent the better part of an hour stalking through the warehouse, silently tracking Reaper’s path. He crept along the second-story catwalk, trying to see the doorway that Reaper was watching. Each step he precisely placed, quiet as a thief, until the heel of his boot knocked loose a rusted piece of the walkway.

The metal fell to the ground with a deafening crash. Jack’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest, and his vision went crooked with panic. He didn’t move another inch, as if by staying perfectly still he could undo the disaster.

“Don’t come any closer,” a scarred voice shouted.

Reaper swirled around, firing one gun, then the other, blindly into the dimly lit warehouse. The pellets hit nothing but air. He wraithed forward, his shadow advancing faster than any human could, toward where Jack stood frozen.

Another shotgun blast, closer. Another, too close, the pellets ricocheting off the catwalk.

Jack had the better angle. He sent a helix rocket straight at Reaper’s chest.

A sharp grunt of pain reverberated across the warehouse. The shotguns clattered as they hit the concrete, and Reaper collapsed in a pile of tangled limbs.

Jack waited, straining to hear another gasp or groan, any sign of life. None came. He thought of running, but then he wouldn’t know for certain. He couldn’t live with that doubt nagging him, not knowing whether he should atone or watch his back. He dropped down from the catwalk onto a pallet, then onto the floor a few yards from Reaper’s unmoving body.

Blood flowed from the wound, a viscous flood undammed. It soaked his clothing, leaving it a darker shade of black, and spread across the dusty concrete floor. The pool was so great, there couldn’t be much left in his veins.

Jack approached the corpse, one measured step at a time, carefully watching for the heave of a breath, the twitch of a limb. The short barrel shotguns lay at Reaper’s feet. Jack kicked them away, as far as he could. They skid under a pallet, out of reach.

Jack knelt beside Reaper’s masked face. He held the back of his hand to the mask and felt no sign of breath. He slipped his hand under his collar and pressed two fingers to his pulse point. Nothing. His own pulse hammered in his ears.

The mask has been knocked askew, revealing the edge of Reaper’s bearded jaw. Jack pulled it off and cast it aside.

Gabe’s brown eyes were open, glassy and unseeing. His lips were parted around a voiceless scream. That face, in spite of the scars that covered it from cheek to cheek, was as familiar as Jack’s own.

Jack gently closed Gabe’s eyelids. With eyes shut, Gabe’s anguished face looked no closer to being at rest.

Tears gathered in Jack’s eyes, stinging, overflowing, mixing with sweat and grit as they trailed down his cheeks. It shouldn’t have ended this way. This creature, whatever had happened to it, was still Gabe down deep at its core, wasn’t it?

Jack removed his own visor to swipe the tears away. The dirty fabric of his jacket smudged them. His vision blurred, and he held his head in his hands, trying to stop from shaking. His shoulders seized, and shallow breaths were all he could manage.

A faint hiss, like the searing of meat, caught his attention. At first, he thought it might be a gas leak. Then he realized it was coming from Gabe. Jack felt for a pulse again. He snatched his hand back as if scorched. Gabe’s skin was on fire.

Jack scrambled around Gabe’s corpse, kneeling in the pool of drying blood. He pulled at the hole his helix rocket had left in Gabe’s shirt, ripping it wider. The blood had stopped, and before his eyes, the perimeter of the wound was shrinking, angry red flesh knitting together. Steam rose from the black pit at the center, like smoke from a volcano.

Jack edged away from the body, crawling on his knees, too disoriented to stand. He stared at his blood-covered hands, detached, as if the hands belonged to someone else. This couldn’t be.

“Jack,” the voice rasped out.

Gabe’s eyes snapped open wide, full of anguish. Jack backed up farther, until he found himself trapped against the wall. His rifle lay out of reach, not that another shot would have mattered.

“Jack, where are you?” the voice weakly called.

“You were dead,” Jack whispered. “I killed you.”

“I’ve been dead before. So have you,” Gabe fought to say.

“Not like this.”

Jack paused and looked toward his rifle. He should have grabbed his things, turned and fled. Gabe might have been alive, but he was barely able to speak. He wouldn’t be able to catch him now. Given time, his plaintive manner could turn, and Jack might not have another chance to get away.

“I’m not going to—” Gabe tried to speak, his grim eyes pleading.

”What the hell is going on?” Jack interrupted. The last thing he had expected was for Reaper to lay down his defenses.

“I’d ask you the same,” Gabe accused.

“I… You shot first.”

Jack had shot Reaper, shot the monster barreling at him with shotguns blazing. He wasn’t sure who lay before him now, the monster or the man who at one time had been his whole world.

“I shot a shadow, not a man. What are you doing here?” Gabe’s words were thick with pain.

He turned onto his side, curling up, head bent and hands clutching his wound. A pang struck Jack, deep in his own chest. How could he have caused this pain?

“Talon—” Jack stopped at a half truth. Tracking Talon, tracking Reaper. Seeking justice, seeking this moment.

The distant whir of a helicopter grew louder overhead, cutting through the broad silence of the warehouse. Gabe turned his head toward the approaching sound and grimaced at the stretch.

“Leave. Now,” Gabe commanded.

“Leave you like this?” Jack asked, incredulous.

“You stay, you die.” Gabe said it as a matter of fact.

“I’m not leaving.” Jack found the resolve to stand up tall. He moved closer, a pause between each step, like he was approaching a wild animal that might flee, though Gabe was in no state to do so.

“What does it matter? You shot me. Let them finish the job.” Gabe pushed himself to his hands and knees, panting, slipping on the bloody concrete. His arms shook with effort, and he screwed his eyes shut.

“It was them I was waiting for.” Waiting to watch Reaper meet them, Jack omitted.

“This isn’t the time to be the hero,” Gabe spit out.

The helicopter thundered above, making the building vibrate with its ferocity. Jack grabbed his pulse rifle and slung it on his back.

“Damn it Jack, run.” Gabe came as close to shouting as he could. In his dark eyes, Jack saw true fear.

“Fine.”

Jack crouched beside Gabe. He looped one arm under Gabe’s knees, the other around his back, and lifted him into the air.

“Mother fucker.” Gabe winced with every step Jack took, but he didn’t try to escape his arms.

Jack lurched forward, as fast as he could with the weight he was bearing. Just as the helicopter touched down on the roof, he burst through the side entrance and into the night air. Down the alley, through back streets deserted past midnight. His arms screamed, but he didn’t dare rest. Whoever was in that helicopter would take one look at the pool of blood and be after them in an instant.

When they reached the hideout, Jack was too tired to do anything other than lay Gabe down on the mattress, leaving him in his blood soaked clothes. Clean up could wait until Jack had enough energy to care. Gabe wouldn’t care. He’d gone silent, lost consciousness halfway through the trek. His heart still beat, Jack kept checking to make sure, but his body was limp as a ragdoll when Jack deposited him in the corner of the room.

His burden delivered, Jack sagged against the rough cinder block wall for support. The room seemed to sway, and he could barely catch his footing.

Jack had been trained to tolerate days without sleep, feats of physical endurance no normal man could perform. This was a different sort of exhaustion. Gabe’s forlorn voice, calling Jack’s name from the brink of death, it had sown seeds of conflict in his mind. The quiet march across the city nurtured them, with nothing else to occupy his thoughts. He wondered where Reaper ended and Gabe began.

Half of Jack’s mind shouted that this was a war criminal, that being in the same room with him was asking for his neck to be snapped in his sleep. The other half recalled the agony and urgency on Gabe’s face when he begged Jack to leave him.

Jack couldn’t look at that face now. Instead, he pulled off his muddy boots and rolled his jacket into a makeshift pillow. He lay down on the linoleum, a few feet away from the mattress where Gabe slept. It was no use trying to find a comfortable position, but Jack had slept in far worse conditions. He listened to the steady cadence of inhales and exhales, thanking God for each one. Sleep came as soon as he shut his eyes.

The first thing Jack did upon waking was listen for the sound of breathing. Though slow, it still came, and he let out a breath of his own in relief.

A beam of early sun shined through the high window, casting Gabe’s haggard face in a relief of light and shadow. Dawn already. Jack had slept too long. He shouldn’t have let his guard down with an unknown variable only feet away.

Gabe’s brow furrowed, and his lips formed the firm line of a frown. Something devilish plagued him, even in sleep. Jack wondered which wrongs might revisit him in his dreams. Those committed willfully under Talon, or those committed in the guise of justice under Overwatch. Crimes Gabe had committed, or those committed against him.

His breathing hitched, and Gabe briefly opened his eyes, then shut them like it was too much effort to see. Jack’s throat tightened, trepidation drawing a noose around his neck. He sat up and inched closer, trying not to make a sound. When Jack’s knees brushed the mattress, Gabe opened his eyes again. He blinked and parted his lips, as if to say something. No sound came out as he moved his lips and silently surveyed the unfamiliar room.

It was bare of all but a few comforts, the basement room in a dirt cheap hostel. A couple of folding chairs were tucked beneath a light bulb that flickered as if it might go out any moment. No door separated the sink, toilet, and shower, only a flimsy curtain hung from the ceiling.

“Are you…” Alive? Alright? Jack hardly knew how to end the question.

“I’m awake. Where’d you take me?” Gabe voice was so hoarse, it sounded like he’d swallowed glass.

Jack didn’t take the bait. He needed to know more about Gabe’s state before giving him any information.

“At least we made it out,” Jack offered.

“We?” Gabe asked, drawing himself up to a position that could almost be considered sitting, though he leaned heavily against the wall.

“I did. With you.” Jack cleared his bone dry throat. “How do you feel?”

“How do you think I feel? You’ve taken plenty of bullets,” Gabe answered.

“But I wasn’t—” Jack had been patched back together more times than he cared to recall. None of those times came close to what he’d seen in the warehouse. He’d never died.

“A monster?” Gabe quipped.

“Enhanced in the same way,” Jack corrected.

The soldier enhancement program had been one thing. Jack and Gabe had come out faster, stronger. Whatever Gabe had done to himself, while things were breaking down between them, that was something else entirely. When HQ blew, Jack’s death had been a farce, a way to start over. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Gabe’s death was real.

“Not sure I’d call it an enhancement,” Gabe said.

“You recruited O'Deorain. I turned a blind eye to her work, to what she did to you, because you were the one who signed up for it,” Jack replied, exasperated.

“Yeah, you ever get more than you signed up for?” Gabe countered.

Jack didn’t respond.

“I recruited O'Deorain because she promised to give us a real advantage. I didn’t recruit her to end up Talon’s pawn.” Gabe pressed his lips together, poorly hiding his rage.

“Pawn? You’ve struck four sites in the past year.” And Jack had monitored each attack, combing through the details for insight into Talon’s weaknesses.

“Have I?”

“What are you saying?” Jack pitched his hands on his knees and leaned forward.

“Did you blame La Croix? When she killed Gerard?” Gabriel asked.

“La Croix was kidnapped, reconditioned. She wasn’t even the same person,” Jack said.

“What do you think happened to me? You think I decided to go back on everything I stood for, we stood for, because the price was right?” Gabe raised his voice, full of venom.

Shame blazed on Jack’s cheeks. After he and Gabe had parted, it had been easy to assume the worst of him. All that anger helped Jack move on, accept that he was better off without Gabe. That Gabe was so far gone, there was nothing to be done but stop him, and in doing so stop Talon.

“They made you like this?” Jack asked.

He sneaked a quick glance to the left, to where his rifle sat. Gabe’s shotguns were back at the warehouse, but the rifle was only a few feet away. Why hadn’t Gabe taken it as soon as he woke? Jack wondered if he was waiting for the right moment, like Amelie had done, killing Gerard in his sleep. A sick feeling in the pit of Jack’s stomach bubbled up until he could taste it.

“They tried. O'Deorain got a start before HQ blew. I guess she figured once we split, no one would notice. I forgot things, little things at first. Didn’t know why. I thought I was losing it, from all the stress. Once they fished me out of the rubble, they finished what she’d started. It worked, for a while. I didn’t even know my own name,” Gabe said earnestly, like he was confessing to a priest in hope of absolution.

It took a moment for the bile in his throat to recede. “For a while?” Jack asked, hesitant.

“Turns out the earlier enhancements didn’t play well with the other shit they did. Every time I heal, well, I guess it heals some of that too. La Croix, she’s almost a corpse, so it’s no problem. She’s the perfect pawn,” Gabe said.

“When did you remember who you were?” Jack tried not to sound too hopeful.

“It was bits at a time, really. But now I’ve been hurt enough, healed enough, that it’s all come back.”

Gabe prodded at his wound, a mess crusted in blood. His angular jaw bulged as he ground his teeth. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe dark flecks away. The knot of new flesh he revealed was raised like a brand.

Jack wanted to believe him so badly it hurt, but how could Gabe know what he didn’t know? Parts of him might be missing that he didn’t even realize were stolen.

“If it’s come back, then why are you still working for Talon?” Jack asked.

“Do you think it’s that easy? That I can just walk away, without a single consequence? You’re not dumb, Jack,” Gabe scoffed.

“I’m not saying it would be easy, but why keep on killing?” It was hypocritical to even ask, Jack knew, but he said it anyway.

“Don’t play the morality card. Why did Blackwatch stand by, let people suffer and die?” Gabe said.

“To wait for the right moment,” Jack answered.

“And sometimes it never came.” Gabe paused and looked up at the stained tiles on the ceiling. He bowed his head and continued, “If I rush things, Talon will take me out, replace me with some new pawn. Then I’ll be dead, and the killing will keep on going without me.”

“Dead?” That would stop anyone but Gabe, Jack thought.

“They’ll find a away. If O'Deorain did this to me, she can undo it. And I’ll be lucky if she ends things with a tidy shot like this.” Gabe pressed his hand over the hardly tidy wound.

If Jack could kill one person and never feel an ounce of guilt, it would be Moira O'Deorain. It wouldn’t be a swift death either, but drawn out, hours or even days listening to her scream and beg after every turn of the knife.

“So, what exactly are you waiting for?” Jack couldn’t resist testing the waters to see what Gabe might spill about Talon.

“Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one who’s been watching, sneaking around. Why were you there last night?” Gabe cocked his head in challenge.

“I had intel,” Jack bluffed. He’d had a general location and an inkling.

“Intel? Your intel is shit. It was just a hand off with a nobody crook.”

“So give me better,” Jack pressed.

“Hell no,” Gabe spit out.

“What was the hand off for?” Jack maintained.

“None of your business.” Gabe turned his cheek and let his head slump against the wall.

“Why?” Jack knew he should stop, but he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate.

“You think getting caught up in this is a good idea? They’re going to be looking for me.”

“But—” Jack managed half a syllable before Gabe interrupted.

“I don’t know what you think you can do that I can’t, but you won’t beat Talon. Not from the outside. It’s not a strike mission.” Gabe’s voice trailed off.

He tried to cross his arms but couldn’t manage the posture. A convulsion took hold of his shoulders, making him drop his hands back to the mattress. His fists clenched the thin blanket.

Jack wanted to reach for Gabe, put a soothing hand over his white knuckles. He couldn’t stand the possibility that Gabe might recoil from the touch though. His hands stayed in his lap, fingers firmly interlocked—a reminder to keep them there.

“I’m not totally useless,” Jack mumbled.

“That’s not the point,” Gabe said.

“What is?” Jack sat up and placed one hand on the edge of the mattress.

Gabe shook his head as he collected his thoughts. “This isn’t your fight. You don’t have to run from them. Just stop chasing them. Take what you have, while you still have it.”

“I don’t have much,” Jack admitted.

“You have your life. Some peace now that the world’s stopped watching you.” Envy crept into Gabe’s tone.

“I’m not looking for retirement.” Jack couldn’t sit back and do nothing, not while he still had the ability to protect.

“Then keep on going with that good guy bullshit, but don’t fuck with Talon. They find me with you, they’ll know. If they don’t already.” Gabe’s nostrils flared and a crease formed on his forehead.

“I’m not afraid.” Jack hated how pathetic his protest sounded.

“You should be. They’ll hunt you. Until you’re dead or wish you were. And I’m not going to be responsible for that.”

“Let me help you,” Jack offered, aware it would be ignored.

“I can’t stay here.” Gabe groaned as he shifted to his knees.

“You’re in no shape to leave,” Jack protested.

“Been in worse shape before.”

Gabe’s skin was sapped entirely of color, a sickly shade of beige. He panted as he pushed himself to his feet. After a single unsteady step, he braced his hand against the wall. His fingers scrabbled at the flaking paint, and his chin trembled. Jack could see the way he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hide how bad it hurt.

Jack opened his mouth, but his plea for Gabe to stop got stuck on his pride. He wanted to beg, but he couldn’t do that, not again. Pleading while his vision went hazy white at the edges, not sure if he was alive or had fallen to hell, as he watched Gabe walk out on him. He had sat in the dark for hours once Gabe was gone, grappling for a hold on existence. It had been years, but the same panic paralyzed Jack now.

Maybe Gabe’s protests didn’t have anything to do with keeping Jack safe from Talon. Maybe this was an easy out for Gabe. Maybe Talon wasn’t even the reason why Gabe left in the first place. Maybe it was all Jack’s fault.

Jack’s insecurities had grown as the world began to doubt his ability to lead. He was no longer the confident man Gabe had fallen for. Who would want to keep company with a shell of a human?

Gabe stumbled forward, but Jack didn’t reach out to catch him. He just followed him with his eyes, blinking rapidly, willing away any tears. A heavy weight settled in Jack’s chest, and he struggled to breathe. He couldn’t hear the thump of Gabe’s boots over the din of blood rushing in his ears.

Gabe made it halfway to the door before he collapsed.

Jack was on his feet in an instant, kneeling beside Gabe before he could think about his actions. Feeling for a pulse, sighing in relief when he found one.

Gabe was out for only a few minutes this time. It was long enough for Jack to haul him back to bed and scrounge some food from his pack. He returned to the bedside with rations in hand as Gabe opened his eyes. A blank-eyed look of confusion was followed by a frown.

“You need to eat.” Jack held out a protein bar.

“Fine,” Gabe said, reaching for the bar. He took it in his shaking hand, then swore under his breath as he dropped it.

Jack picked it up and tore open the wrapper. He broke off a corner of the bar and offered it to Gabe.

“I can feed myself,” Gabe muttered.

Jack rolled his eyes and lifted his hand. He waited, letting Gabe decide how stubborn he was going to be. Gabe opened his mouth and allowed Jack to slip the piece between his lips.

Jack hadn’t meant to brush against Gabe’s lower lip when his fingers retreated. The skin was surprisingly soft for someone in such a bad state. Jack caught himself thinking about how Gabe’s lips used to feel pressed to his own, the skin a supple contrast to the wiry hair of Gabe’s beard. He pushed the memory out of his mind.

Gabe chewed cautiously, like the first food in God only knew how long was of little interest, the pain or his enhancements suppressing his appetite. A sour look crossed his face when he tried to swallow. He coughed and pressed a hand to his throat.

Jack opened the bottle of water he’d readied and cupped the back of Gabe’s head, lifting him slightly from the pillow. He didn’t bother to ask for permission to help him. He wouldn’t be granted it, and Gabe would end up pouring water all over himself and the bed.

“Drink,” Jack directed.

Gabe took a tentative sip, letting the water sit in his mouth before swallowing. Jack encouraged him by curling his fingertips ever so slightly against Gabe’s close-cropped hair. He’d maintained the butch cut, but Jack could see far more gray than the last time he’d been able to look. It felt like velvet, just like he recalled.

Jack’s thumb rubbed gentle circles against his scalp as Gabe took another sip, and another. Water dripped onto Gabe’s lips, and his tongue swiped over them, catching the drop before it fell. Jack looked at a fascinating spot on the wall behind him, trying not to stare.

Jack was sad to see the bottle empty so soon, but thankful that he had a reason to end the touch before he got carried away. He laid Gabe’s head against the pillow and picked up the discarded protein bar. This time, it went down easy. This time, Jack was economical in his movement, not letting his hands linger.

The food seemed to still Gabe’s tremors, and his eyelids drooped, though he blinked them open a few times before succumbing to their weight. Once his breathing stretched into a relaxed rhythm, Jack left his side and went about his usual post mission procedure. He was glad to finally have the chance to feed himself and wash the grime from his skin.

After tending to his basic needs, Jack carried one of the chairs across the room and pitched it next to where Gabe lay. He tapped out notes on his pad and checked for new intel, always with an eye on Gabe, working silently until he woke. Unlike earlier, there was no confusion on Gabe’s face. Instead, he propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at what Jack was doing.

“Well?” Jack put down his work and slid to the edge of his seat.

“I’ve been better,” Gabe said. He fumbled into a sitting position.

Though his movement was clumsy and his breathing labored, Jack waited to see how much he was capable of before interceding. Gabe tried to shrug out of his jacket, but the stretch was too much. He tugged at the sleeves with a sullen look on his face.

“Let me,” Jack said.

He knelt on the corner of the mattress, far enough that he still had to reach to take hold of the jacket. Gabe held his his arms apart from his body, and Jack pulled the jacket from his shoulders. He guided his hands through the sleeves, careful to avoid raising his arms too high. When Jack folded the heavy jacket and set it out of the way, Gabe nodded. Jack wasn’t sure if it was a subtle thank you or a directive to continue.

“Let’s get this filth off of you.” Jack gestured to Gabe’s ruined shirt. “I have a change of clothes you can borrow.”

Jack counted his own heartbeat, loud as a drum. When he reached the count of ten, he shuffled forward on his knees, coming closer to help with the shirt. Close enough to smell the scent of blood and gunsmoke clinging to Gabe like aftershave.

Jack grasped the hem of the tattered shirt. Even through the fabric, Gabe’s skin felt far hotter than it should have been. Gabe’s hands tensed, but otherwise he sat perfectly still as Jack drew the shirt up, exposing his wounded chest.

It took some maneuvering to get Gabe out of the shirt. Jack tried to keep a respectable buffer between them, like he was a doctor aiding a patient. When the fabric pulled Gabe’s arms too far, he hissed, and Jack almost stopped. But Gabe ducked and, with a final shudder, let Jack slip it over his head.

The shirt wasn’t worth salvaging, the bullet hole torn wide, the fabric stiff with blood. Jack set it aside with the jacket, if only to have a task that would take his attention away from Gabe’s body.

Dried blood clung to Gabe’s abdomen, streaked by sweat. The tattoos that had once covered his arms were smeared like ink stains. His regeneration had turned them into an undecipherable blur, though Jack remembered the translation. He was solid, hadn’t lost an ounce of muscle since the last time Jack saw him, but he’d gained dozens of scars. A gnarled pit in his bicep was so deep Jack’s stomach hurt from looking at it. Jack supposed the wound he’d left might look similar, in time.

“Think you can make it to the shower?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know.” Gabe spoke quietly, like he didn’t want to admit his doubts.

It was the closest to a _no_ that Gabe would provide, Jack knew.

“Can I—” Jack gestured toward the sink.

“Go ahead,” Gabe said.

Jack walked to the sink and wet a towel. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gabe hunch over, his hands splayed across his abdomen. Jack let the water run long enough to reach warm, then rung out the towel and hurried across the room.

“Sit back,” Jack instructed.

Gabe eased himself against the wall. Jack stood over him, waiting, afraid to come any closer. Taking the final step felt as daunting as diving into the depths of the ocean. Jack filled his lungs with air and knelt beside him. Gabe dropped his hands to his sides, giving Jack access to his chest.

To steady himself, Jack planted a hand on the mattress, not quite touching Gabe’s hip. He used the corner of the towel to wipe away the dried blood covering his skin. His first attempt simply smeared the blood around like paint, but after folding the towel over, Gabe began to come clean. With the skin no longer caked with blood, the wound stood out in livid red, and Jack avoided running the towel over even the perimeter.

Rivulets of faint pink water trailed down Jack’s hand to soak the cuff of his shirt. He rolled up his sleeves and wiped his hands on his pants. Gabe hummed low in his throat and wrapped a hand around one of Jack’s bare wrists. Jack was too stunned to pull away.

“Didn’t figure you’d keep these,” Gabe said, pleased.

“I guess… I guess I just I got used to them,” Jack whispered.

A inch wide band on each wrist. Sunk beneath Jack’s skin, where the cuffs of a uniform would surely cover. Once crisp black ink, the border of each was softer now. Not smeared like Gabe’s tattoos, but not perfect like when it had been punctured into his skin, under Gabe’s direction.

Gabe took Jack’s other wrist in his left hand. He thumb and forefinger met just where the band sat. Jack flushed from the heat of Gabe’s calloused fingers on such sensitive skin. He couldn’t move. He shouldn’t encourage this. Gabe was unwell, and the trust that had led to those tattoos was long fractured.

Gabe tightened his hold, and Jack squirmed. Blood pounded in his veins, pooling hot in his belly.

“You like seeing me like this?” Gabe inclined his head toward Jack’s lap.

There was no way for Jack to hide the erection tenting his pants. Shifting position made it worse, his cock rubbing against the seam of his underwear.

“It’s not like that,” Jack said.

It never had been. Gabe had reveled in watching Jack hurt under his hand, not the other way around. Thinking of their roles reversed felt like a perversion.

The corners of Gabe’s mouth curled into a sly smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He pulled one wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss to the pulse point, just where the dark band covered. The brush of his beard tickled, and Jack’s hips bucked forward.

“Show me how you feel,” Gabe said. He released Jack’s hands, giving him room to obey.

Jack hesitated, something that hadn’t been tolerated when Gabe used to command him. But Gabe had forfeited the right to obedience on his terms.

Jack palmed his cock through his pants. He instinctively thrust into his own touch, his cock twitching under his hand. He could feel a wet patch forming as he rubbed the head leisurely, teasing himself and Gabe.

“You want to do this?” Gabe asked.

“Yes,” Jack admitted.

“Then show me,” Gabe demanded.

Jack unbuttoned his pants and slowly slid the zipper down. He touched his cock through his briefs, the fabric gone translucent near the dripping head. It felt good to frustrate Gabe when he could do nothing about it, nothing but sit there with his chest heaving and his own hand pressed to the crotch of his pants.

Jack reveled in his power, lightly squeezing his shaft and circling his thumb around the swollen head. Then, he slipped the waistband of his underwear to rest below his sack and stroked his erection, spreading his wetness along the shaft. He felt more exposed with just his cock out than if he’d stripped completely. The shameful reality of being on display for Gabe fed his arousal, making him impossibly hard.

“Kneel properly,” Gabe ordered.

Jack had fallen into bad habits without someone there to guide him. No further instruction was needed. He spread his legs and arched his back, forcing his chest forward for Gabe’s benefit.

“You want to come?” Gabe asked.

Jack nodded. What Gabe wanted to see, Jack wanted to do. His hand picked up pace.

“Look at me,” Gabe reprimanded.

Jack’s hand faltered. His eyes were half lidded, unfocused. It was one thing to know that Gabe was watching him and another to watch himself being watched. His cheeks burned, and he knew Gabe was eager to make them a brighter shade of pink.

“Don’t know if I can,” Jack said.

“You can. If you want to come.”

Jack clenched his teeth and opened his eyes. Gabe’s lips were parted a fraction, wet with hunger, the lower lip bitten red. The want written on Gabe’s face made Jack’s stomach draw tight. He cupped his balls and curled his toes. With one more stoke, he was coating his hand in come, pleasure coursing through him. He rode out the aftershocks with a final squeeze. Gabe’s own hand stilled.

“Do you—” Jack offered.

“I’m good. Wash yourself off,” Gabe interrupted.

Jack didn’t push it. He knew it was likely Gabe couldn’t come, even if he wanted to, not in that kind of pain. He gave Gabe a bit of privacy while he slipped out of his come stained pants, then washed his hands and cock.

When Jack turned back around, Gabe was lying down. Bare chested and shivering, he appeared deceptively small curled up on top of the blankets. Jack helped him slip out of the rest of his clothes and under the covers. He tucked the sheet around Gabe’s shoulders then stepped back, contemplating the spot where he had slept the night before.

“Jesus, you really going to sleep on the floor after that?” Gabe’s weary speech was slurred.

What did it matter, after that? He shouldn’t have done it, but God it had felt good—giving himself something after so much nothing. Years of missing the person lying in front of him, feeling like there was a hole in his heart that would never be filled. He couldn’t go back to the cold, hard floor.

Jack slipped under the sheets, letting the warmth of Gabe’s body lull him. At the edge of drifting off, Jack felt fingers wrap around his neck. He gasped and clawed at them before recalling who lay next to him.

“Shh, you’re alright,” Gabe said and kissed his temple.

Jack lay awake for a long time before sleep took him.


	2. Chapter 2

“What have you gotten yourself into?” Ana scolded. “When you called, I thought you were in trouble. Not him.”

She stooped over the mattress where Gabe quaked, unaware of her presence. His head rocked back and forth as he mumbled something about a chase too quiet for Jack to fully make out. A violent convulsion shot through him. With his head thrown back, he arched off the mattress like he was trying to escape his own skin.

Ana touched the back of her hand to his forehead and sucked in a breath of concern. She pried his eyelids open and peered closer to examine how he reacted. His eyes rolled back, pupils unresponsive to the light.

“He seemed better last night. But this morning… He’s been this way since I woke up,” Jack explained.

“Last night? Don’t tell me he spent the night here,” Ana said.

Gabe, whose skin had been tan and lively when Jack fell asleep beside him, was now a sickly shade of gray. The wound had turned mottled black and red, and gruesome dark veins spread across his chest, crawling up his neck.

“He needs help,” Jack pleaded.

“He does, but should you be the one to help him? Doesn’t Talon take care of its own?” Ana spit out the word Talon like it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“If you can’t help him, at least help me do it,” Jack said.

“Is this helping you?” Ana put her hands on her hips and tilted her head in challenge.

“Just do something, please.” Jack knew he hadn’t been victim to Talon the same way Ana had. He could never have the same enmity. He still had both his eyes.

“You tried your biotics, I assume?” Ana grabbed the worn medical surplus bag she’d dropped upon seeing Gabe’s state.

“Didn’t work. Might have made him worse. It’s like he’s attacking himself instead of healing.” With each minute they argued, the black veins crept closer to Gabe’s skull.

“Then let’s try the opposite. Stop the healing,” Ana said and sat down beside Gabe’s body.

She twisted the lid off a jar of anti-biotic ointment. The acrid smell of the gel filled the poorly ventilated room, and Jack covered his nose with his hand. Ana tore open a sterile applicator and used it to slather the purple gel over Gabe’s chest, careful to avoid contact with her own skin.

Jack stood behind her, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He tried to fight the agitated energy that made him want to kick a hole in the concrete wall. Ana sat back and waited, her calm hands folded in her lap. Both of them had seen cases far more devastating, bodies blown apart, or worse, bodies mostly intact, except for a few key parts. Panic wouldn’t help Gabe, but Jack couldn’t help feeling incensed by Ana’s disinterest.

After a brief yet miserable wait, the veins that protruded from Gabe’s ashen skin began to shrink. The black faded, leaving faint tracks where the veins shouldn’t have been. Jack wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt and bent forward to get a better look. Though the cankerous rot had receded, the core of the wound appeared worse. It was no longer miraculously healed. An irregular scab covered the center, and the raised perimeter oozed fat drops of blood.

“Thank you,” Jack whispered. If he spoke too loud, he might undo whatever miracle Ana had performed.

Ana nodded and turned away to stow her supplies. She didn’t bother to hide her apathy toward Gabe’s dire condition. An uneasy sense of guilt settled on Jack’s shoulders. He’d called her here with a lie of omission and made her confront something she’d rather ignore.

The first time Gabe blinked, Jack wondered if he imagined it, his mind preoccupied. He stared, intent, hoping to witness another sign of consciousness. When Gabe’s eyes flashed open once more, a guttural cry of pain accompanied it. His hands canvased his skin, skirting down to touch the wound. He found the raw pit, and his whole body jolted like he was being electrocuted.

Jack stooped over and reached to comfort Gabe. Before he could attempt anything, Gabe lashed out. His fist narrowly missed Ana. Instead, it connected square with the soft meat of Jack’s stomach, making him flinch and double over. He fell to his knees, reeling from the pain. Had the swing been a few inches higher, it would have broken his ribs.

In an instant, Ana stabbed a tranquilizer into Gabe’s forearm. His eyelids sagged shut. If not peaceful, he was at least tamed for the moment.

“You said he wasn’t violent.” A line of worry formed between Ana’s brows.

“It was the pain,” Jack explained.

“How do you know?” Ana challenged.

“You didn’t see him yesterday. He’s not what Talon made him. Not anymore. I never thought I’d see Gabe again, but it’s him,” Jack said, convincing himself as much as Ana.

“You act like he’s two different people. But Gabriel’s always been hot headed. How many times did you get him out of trouble? How many times did Blackwatch go rogue?” Ana reminded Jack.

“How much of that was him though? How much was Talon? Especially at the end.” Though he protested, an immature sort of sheepishness nagged Jack as he recalled Gabe’s reckless mistakes and his own lame excuses.

“Then how do you know it’s him now?” Ana asked.

“The way he talked about them. What they did to him. Put him through the same hell as La Croix.” Jack’s effort to relieve her doubts didn’t change Ana’s sour expression. He continued anyway. “It didn’t work though. He’s trying to find a way out, but—”

“Don’t be so naive. Gerard wanted Amelie back too,” Ana interrupted.

“She never seemed quite right. You have to admit that,” Jack was fast to point out.

“Maybe,” Ana said.

“It’s not like that with Gabe though.”

“Why risk it? You want to end up like me?” Ana pointed to her eye patch. “Or worse, Gerard?”

“He’s going to end things with Talon. End Talon.” Gabe may not have said it in those words, but Jack was paraphrasing.

“So let him try. I don’t see why you need to get involved,” Ana replied.

“You don’t understand,” Jack maintained.

“No, I don’t. How can you forgive so easily? It’s not just strangers he’s hurt.” Ana’s hard look softened as Jack began to frown.

“I’ve hurt him too.” Jack glanced at Gabe’s wounded chest.

“You? You were the one who shot him?” Ana sounded more irritated than shocked.

“Yeah,” Jack said, suddenly drawn to inspect the scuffed linoleum upon which he sat.

“I don’t think for a minute that you’d do that, unless it was self defense.”

“I didn’t plan on it, but it was my fault. My mistake to follow so close.” Jack picked at a crumbling tile.

“What happened to Gabe isn’t your fault. None of it,” Ana reassured.

“Maybe not. But don’t you believe in forgiveness? Don’t you want that from Fareeha?” Jack regretted the cheap shot, but they’d all made so many mistakes, living through hell and trying to find ways to cope.

“I did what was best for her. I was protecting her,” Ana solemnly said.

“I know. And some of what Gabe’s done might be unforgivable. But he’s paid a high price.”

“You have too, with how you’ve punished yourself.” Ana stretched until she was as tall as Jack’s slumped posture and looked him straight in the eyes. “Don’t let your feelings blind you. He recruited O'Deorain. He knew what she could do. He volunteered for it. It was no accident.”

“O'Deorain was a mistake. You don’t think he realizes that? She was the end of Gabe,” Jack tried to rationalize.

“Yet she still works for Talon,” Ana reminded, as if Jack could forget.

“In Oasis. Practically as far away as she could be,” Jack said.

“You think no one’s keeping tabs for her? Be careful, Jack. You could end up played for a fool.”

Jack sighed and crossed his arms. It was pointless. He wasn’t going to convince Ana that Gabe wasn’t dangerous. Gabe had done too much damage, and Talon had taken too much from her.

Ana put her small hand on his forearm and squeezed gently.

“I cared about Gabriel too. I’d be happy to see him back to his old self. But don’t let your guard down. The risk you’re taking.” She paused and took a sharp inhale through her teeth. “I won’t stop you, but I’m not going to encourage it.”

“Everything we’ve done has been a risk. At least this one matters.” If Jack could make this one thing work, maybe some of the sacrifice would have been worth it.

Before Ana could reply, Gabe’s legs spasmed under the blanket. The movement was fitful, like he was escaping something. They’d been treating him as an abstraction, one that could be dissected and debated. Jack dared not speak of him now.

Both of them studied Gabe cautiously. His eyes remained closed, twitching erratically under the lids. The wound was no longer quite so grievous looking, an unexpected improvement considering the anti-healing property Ana had used to stop the necrosis. The enhancements Jack and Gabe shared must have taken over when his regeneration failed.

“I don’t think Gabriel is going to want to see me when he wakes up,” Ana said, rising to her feet.

Jack didn’t disagree. An argument between them wouldn’t help anyone, and Ana never minced her words. Jack had hated taking sides between them in the days of Overwatch, and it would only be worse now, the painful accusations fully warranted.

“If you could keep this quiet.” Jack left the request vague, as if he dared ask her to cover up a dead body.

Ana and he traveled together, but at a distance. Setting up alone, always having the other’s back. Over the years, they’d developed a code for most of their communication, never knowing who might be listening. But one slip up, one mention of Gabe for Talon to intercept, could mean disaster.

“Who would I tell?” Ana said and laughed ruefully.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and took a light step toward the door. Jack stood and followed close behind her. Every time they said goodbye, part of Jack flared sick with fear. They’d survived the impossible, decades of war, their own supposed deaths. For one of them to be lost now would leave the other desolate.

Jack opened the door and guided And down the narrow hallway lit only at either end. The darkness felt sacred like a sepulcher, and Jack didn’t break the silence until they reached the exit to daylight.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Jack said.

He wrapped his arms around Ana’s shoulders and perched his chin on her head. He knew she was strong, but her body was so slight. His urge to protect her made him squeeze tighter, afraid to let go. Her arms loosely circled his waist, and she laid her head on his chest. For a few moments, they merely existed together, on the fringe of farewell.

“You can thank me by taking care of yourself,” Ana finally replied.

“I’ll try, if you do the same.” Jack’s mouth moved against the smooth fabric of her head scarf. She smelled faintly of myrrh, as always.

“If Gabriel doesn’t remember me when he wakes, don’t tell him I was here.”

Ana let go of Jack, and though he found it ever harder to tolerate goodbyes, Jack released his hold. She walked up the stairs, her body a shrinking silhouette against the light. Jack watched until he could no longer see her feet, then turned his back and retraced his steps.

His hand was already on the doorknob to his room when he heard the noise. The sound of a small piece of metal falling down the stairs, bouncing off each step, to land at the bottom and roll down the hallway. It stopped short of where Jack stood. He squinted to see in the shadows and scanned the ground for the object. He expected to find a coin, slipped from Ana’s pocket.

What he picked up was bullet, no bigger in size than his little fingernail. It didn’t surprise Jack that Ana had a gun on her, but it was unlike her to let something as conspicuous as ammunition slip from her pocket unnoticed. He hurried back down the hall and stood at the base of the stairway. Expecting to see Ana lingering, he peered up at the exit, but she was gone.

Jack pocketed the round and crept up the stairs. He stopped and listened between each step for signs of human activity. A pigeon cooed and flapped its wings. He waited for it to calm down before he poked his head into the sunlight.

The afternoon sun assaulted his eyes, and Jack blinked rapidly, struggling to adjust to the brightness after a day below ground. The pot-holed parking lot was empty except for the sedan that must have belonged to the building manager, since it never seemed to move.

Jack hesitated before climbing the final step to the asphalt. He usually waited for the cover of night to venture out. An abandoned factory overlooked the parking lot. The windows were broken and the sun gleamed off of them like jagged teeth. He’d investigated the building before and found nothing but mildew and rust. Still, he couldn’t be too cautious. Behind each window might be a pair of eyes.

If only he’d brought his tactical visor for a closer look. Running back for it was out of the question though. Anyone hiding would escape in the meantime. A quick circle around the lot revealed two pigeons squabbling over trash behind the dumpster. No signs of human activity. He headed back down the stairs, less than satisfied with his investigation. But he couldn’t risk chasing ghosts when Gabe might wake at any moment.

When Jack opened the door, Gabe was already up, bent over the sink scrubbing his face. He shut off the tap and whipped around to face Jack. Water dripped from his beard and trailed down his bare chest. After he recognized that the intruder was only Jack, he reached for a towel to dry himself.

Jack sought for a neutral way to break the silence. “You’re up,” he settled on.

Gabe nodded and rolled his shoulders to shake off the sleep. His movement was easy, without a shred of pain detectable on his face. He had a high tolerance, but Jack had learned to read even minor discomfort after so much time spent together. The change in his condition from the night before was remarkable. The change from this morning, unbelievable.

“Where’s Ana?” Gabe asked.

He rushed toward the door that Jack had forgotten to shut. Jack winced as he turned around to shut it, making it clear that no one was waiting in the hallway. He schooled his face into a bland expression before turning to Gabe.

“Gone,” Jack admitted, regretting that he couldn’t keep Ana’s wish to be forgotten.

“She’s that happy to see me?” Gabe quipped.

“It’s not like that,” Jack protested.

A huff of derisive laughter was Gabe’s response.

“So, you remember?” Jack was careful to omit exactly what he might remember. If Gabe didn’t recall hurting him, he wouldn’t bring it up.

“Pain. And then nothing,” Gabe answered.

Jack frowned before he could stop himself from reacting.

“What? Did I do something?” Gabe instantly followed up.

“Well, Ana knocked you out.” Jack paused, debating how much to explain. “You had a bad reaction. Took a swing at her.”

Gabe slouched and looked at his feet. “Figures I’d fuck up,” he mumbled.

Gabe’s remorse surprised Jack. He’d expected a defense. Excuses had come so easily to him in the past—justifications for why rules had to be broken, why his actions deserved an exception. His defeated posture made Jack’s heart sink.

“Let’s get you something to wear,” Jack said, eager to change the subject.

Gabe didn’t push it. Not when Jack handed him a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Not when they ate what was left in Jack’s pack and reminisced about the worst they’d lived off of on a mission. Neither of them was stranger to freeze dried and powdered concoctions kept long past their shelf life.

It wasn’t until Jack slipped off his shirt to take a shower that Gabe brought it up. The fist-sized bruise on his stomach had already faded to a yellow-tinged blue, helped by his heightened rate of healing. It was still unmistakable in its origin though.

“You said I tried to hit Ana.” Gabe’s dejected tone was too young for his years.

“You missed.” Jack flashed half of a smile, trying disarm the blame Gabe was about to heap on himself.

“I don’t like hurting you like that,” Gabe said.

“Now that’s a flat out lie,” Jack replied, laughing softly.

Gabe had spent hours, days sometimes, hurting him in ever more inventive ways. Jack had looked forward to the promise of Gabe’s hands on him like Christmas. Sometimes, Gabe had gone quiet and introspective afterward, when he wasn’t quite sure how to process what he’d done.

Jack had always made it clear how much he wanted it, though it wasn’t quite the same way Gabe wanted it. Jack’s desire to please was more powerful than any aversion to the heavier pain that Gabe craved. And not strictly liking it didn’t mean that he didn’t love suffering it.

“Don’t like hurting you by accident. Don’t like you hiding it from me either,” Gabe corrected, still solemn.

“On purpose though?” Jack teased.

“Always did like that.”

Gabe stepped closer, close enough to touch Jack. He traced a fingertip hesitantly over the sizable bruise. Jack twitched under the feather light touch that was unexpected but not unwelcome. Gabe circled the perimeter then pressed two fingers to the center, deeper, almost clinical in his touch. Jack gasped at the twinge of pain, and Gabe hummed in approval, like it was just the reaction the test should elicit.

Gabe gripped Jack’s waist in his rough hands, careless of how he might bruise him further. A flush bloomed on Jack’s skin, spreading from the tips of his ears to his chest. He hated how his body betrayed him every time Gabe laid a finger on him.

“You like that?” Gabe asked.

“I—” Jack stuttered then stopped. Gabe didn’t need an answer to a question like that.

Without comment, Gabe dropped to his knees. He kept his lidded eyes focused on Jack’s stomach, on the watercolor bruise. He bowed forward and mouthed a kiss over the sore spot. His dry lips skimmed across the skin, and the tip of his tongue flicked hot at the center. The wiry hair of his beard tickled as he pressed another kiss, deeper. The brush of his teeth were a threat.

Jack twisted in his grip, unable to stay stoic when the whole of his stomach felt electric under Gabe’s touch. Gabe sat back on his heels and looked up at Jack through dark lashes.

“Sorry. Too much?” Gabe asked.

“No. It’s not that,” Jack said.

Jack clenched the rumpled fabric of his pants, unsure what to do with his hands. Gabe reached out and took one of Jack’s nervous hands in his own. He worked his thumb between Jack’s fingers, forcing him to relax. Jack acquiesced and laced his fingers loosely with Gabe’s.

“Didn’t think I’d feel that way about an accident. But damn if I don’t like seeing you marked. You always bruised so easily,” Gabe praised.

“You sure didn’t make it easy to cover it up.”

Gabe smiled like he was proud of his work.

“That was an art. Knowing just the right places. Knowing you’d be standing in front of a bunch of pricks, with your shirt that close to showing off your marks.” Gabe laid his free hand over the bruise, observing its expanse between his spread fingers.

Jack ran his thumb along his collarbone, remembering bruises, scratches, and bites, strung like a necklace of hurt. One that he never got tired of wearing.

Jack had fucked plenty of other people, tried a whole damn year with Vincent, but the hurting had never been as good. He’d had to ask for it, and even then, those men had seemed afraid to hurt someone as strong as Jack. Afraid to admit they were afraid of him too.

Not Gabe though. The delight that Gabe took from watching Jack writhe made him feel like what he was doing was holy.

“Want to hurt you,” Gabe said, bringing Jack’s hand to his mouth to kiss across the knuckles. “Will you let me?”

Jack hesitated for a moment longer than he would have in the past. Was it wise to put himself at Gabe’s mercy? What if he lashed out again? Gabe opened his pretty brown eyes a little wider in plea, and Jack melted.

“Yeah,” Jack said. He stroked Gabe’s jaw with the back of his hand. “I want it too.”

Gabe was quick to unbuckle Jack’s belt and strip it from his waist. He stretched out the broken-in leather then doubled it over in his hands. The sight of Gabe holding the belt made Jack’s cock stir, anticipation deeply ingrained.

Jack had known well what it meant when Gabe touched his own belt. A silent signal that when they were alone next, he’d feel the consequences. There was nothing to delay them now.

“Drop your pants,” Gabe instructed.

Jack’s fingers were clumsy with the button, struggling under Gabe’s critical eye. He managed to get the pants unzipped and shove them down to his ankles. The fabric pooled on the ground. He stepped out of them and toed the pants into the corner.

Gabe raised his eyebrows. Jack immediately bent to pick up the pants. He folded them neatly and stowed them with the rest of his clothes.

“Those too.” Gabe pointed at Jack’s white briefs.

They weren’t hiding much, Jack’s hard cock clearly outline through the thin fabric. Jack hooked his thumbs under the waistband and pulled them down in one movement. He didn’t dare leave them on the floor.

“Good,” Gabe said as Jack tucked them away. “Didn’t think you liked those.”

Jack shrugged. Tight, white briefs had been Gabe’s thing. He’d resisted when Gabe had initially requested he wear them, instead of the black boxer briefs he’d favored once he was old enough to pick his own clothes. I’m not a kid, he’d complained. He’d changed his mind when he saw Gabe’s reaction to the white fabric barely covering his ass. There wasn’t anything juvenile about his body in those briefs.

Gabe kept the sweats he’d borrowed from Jack on. They weren’t baggy enough to disguise the bulge of his cock, but they denied Jack the satisfaction of seeing Gabe bare. The discrepancy made him feel all the more exposed.

“Come here,” Gabe said, moving to the mattress. He laid the belt beside him and patted his thigh.

Jack didn’t need to be asked twice. His face flamed with embarrassment as he walked across the room, painfully self conscious of how desperate he must look with his hard cock on display, bobbing with each step. His desire to be over Gabe’s knee was stronger than the shame. He knelt as gracefully as he could with limbs that didn’t want to cooperate.

Gabe took pity on him and guided Jack over his lap, broad hands on his rib cage and thighs. He handled Jack like it was nothing, like he was a toy. His last adjustment was to shift Jack so his cock lay pinned between his belly and Gabe’s solid thigh.

“That’s it. Hands behind your back,” Gabe said.

Jack clasped his hands together at the small of his back. The position forced Jack’s chest to bear his weight, his neck stretched taut, cheek pressed to the scratchy blanket. Gabe grabbed his tattooed wrists and squeezed until Jack could feel his pulse thrum in his hands.

“Keep them here, or I stop,” Gabe warned.

Jack nodded against the blanket, the start of an abrasion forming on his cheek. His stomach knotted, fearful and eager at the same time. He was ready to receive what Gabe wanted to give him, no matter how much it hurt.

Gabe ran a calming hand over his Jack’s hip before grabbing a handful of his ass, digging each fingertip into the flesh. He kneaded deeply, then dragged his blunt fingernails across the skin, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Jack squirmed against his thigh and arched his back, presenting himself to Gabe, silently begging.

“You ready?”

Without waiting for an answer, Gabe pulled back and landed a resounding slap at the crest of Jack’s ass. The sting traveled straight to Jack’s trapped cock, making it throb against Gabe’s thigh. A heavier blow followed, more of Gabe’s strength behind it. Jack’s feet kicked in reflex, and he locked his knees to stop from looking like he couldn’t take it.

Gabe alternated rapid, cruel slaps with a touch that might have been soothing, were Jack’s skin not overheated to the point of hypersensitivity. Even the softest touch would have felt like a scratch now. Jack curled his toes and rocked his hips, his cock slick against his belly, dripping onto Gabe’s sweats. He had to remind himself to exhale.

“Want it that bad, do you?” Gabe asked. “Come if you can, but I’m not going to help you.”

Gabe was being generous. He hadn’t always been kind enough to warm Jack’s skin up with his hand before the belt, let him openly rut against his thigh. Generosity came with a price though. Jack stilled when he heard the jingle of his belt buckle.

“Nice and pink, but I want you red,” Gabe said. It was as much of a warning as Jack would get.

The loud crack of the belt made Jack jump before he even felt the pain. It came like a flash of lightning, bright behind his closed eyes. The next strike landed on the delicate crease of his upper thighs. Jack’s mouth fell open, but no words followed, just the hint of a whine. He writhed on Gabe’s lap, not wanting to escape but unable to endure without some release. He wished he could slip a hand down to fondle his cock, but he didn’t want Gabe to stop.

“That hurt?” Gabe taunted.

He rained down three more blows in quick succession. Jack swallowed a whimper when Gabe struck the same spot twice. Gabe stopped and ran a finger over the fresh welt. Jack shivered, and his cock jerked, close but not quite there.

“Give in for me,” Gabe said.

When Gabe started again, the stripes he laid down crossed over each other, until no unmarred skin remained. Blood pooled molten in Jack’s belly. He’d forgotten what is was like to loathe and crave Gabe’s touch at the same time. He cried out, not because he couldn’t take a beating, but because he wanted to be good for Gabe. What began as low moans ended breathy and high.

“You’re doing so well,” Gabe praised. “I think you can take a few more.”

Jack worked his hips without holding back, grinding until his legs shook and cramped, until he came all over his belly, all over Gabe’s pants. Each lash that followed pushed his oversenstive cock through the mess he made.

Jack lost count, didn’t know whether it was two or twenty more strokes before Gabe dropped the belt. His focus was singular, his mind blank. The pain Gabe inflicted took up every fragment of his attention.

“You’re alright,” Gabe said, just above a whisper. “Fuck if red doesn’t suit you.”

Jack felt pressure rather than pain when Gabe ran an appreciative hand over his ass, the finer sensation numbed by the belt. When his thumbnail scraped over a welt, Jack recoiled and grasped frantically for something to take hold of, latching on to Gabe’s knee. Gabe helped him roll onto his side. Jack was pliant, let himself be arranged as Gabe graciously pillowed Jack’s head on the leg that wasn’t streaked with come.

Gabe cupped his jaw and traced the contours of his face like he was learning his body all over again. Jack stretched his neck and rubbed his cheek against the bulge of Gabe’s erection. He turned his head to mouth over the wet spot that had leaked through his sweatpants. Gabe tangled his fingers in Jack’s hair and pushed Jack’s face down until he couldn’t breathe in anything but the musky scent of Gabe’s cock.

“Can you sit up for me?” Gabe asked. “Want to fuck your mouth.”

Jack crawled to the head of the mattress. He pushed himself up so his back was against the wall and knelt to take the weight off his ass. The new angle allowed him to admire the plush curve of Gabe’s pectorals, his skin glowing bronze like an ancient god. Gabe slipped the sweatpants down around his hips, revealing his thick cock, the uncut head shiny with precome. Jack instinctively licked his lips, and Gabe grinned, predatory.

“You want it?”

“Yes,” Jack said, though the single word was hard to form.

“You know what to do if you can’t take it.”

Gabe straddled Jack, pinning his head between the wall and his thighs. Jack was disappointed that he could no longer see the open hunger on Gabe’s face. That thought evaporated when Gabe laid his hand on Jack’s cheek and patted it a little too hard, nearly a slap. Jack clenched his teeth, and blood flowed to his spent cock, though it was too soon for him to get hard again.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just be a good hole.”

Gabe pressed two fingers to Jack’s lips, waiting for him to relax. Jack opened his mouth, careful to cover his teeth with his lips. The fingers slipped inside, pressing down on his tongue, moving farther back until they reached his soft pallet. Jack coughed, saliva flooding his mouth, and Gabe withdrew.

In place of his fingers, Gabe slid the head of his cock between Jack’s waiting lips. It rested heavy on Jack’s tongue, the tang on his precome pungent. Jack got a fraction of a moment to adjust before Gabe rolled his hips forward, pushing until Jack’s nose was buried in the coarse curls at the base of his cock. His muscular thighs pressed against Jack’s shoulders, the remnants of Jack’s own come smearing on his skin.

Jack tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go. He gagged and swallowed around Gabe, willing his throat to open. On the road, he’d sucked cock in plenty of disappointing hook ups. But he hadn’t let someone fuck him like this in ages, everything outside of his control—his movement, his breathing. He gripped the pillowcase so hard he feared he’d tear it, determined to be a good hole for Gabe.

“Easy,” Gabe said, as he drew his cock back.

He cradled Jack’s head in his hands and pushed in faster, just as deep. Jack fought to breathe through his nose. He struggled to keep from retching, though he suspected that was what Gabe really wanted to hear. To know that he was hurting Jack as he took his pleasure.

Gabe’s hands kept Jack’s head from pounding into the wall as he snapped his hips forward. His cock slid to the back of Jack’s throat, eased by the pooling saliva that dripped from the corners of Jack’s mouth and coated his chin. Gabe teased himself at first, with long full strokes, but soon settled into punishing rhythm.

Jack let go of the pillow and balled his hands into fists, letting his nails bite into his palms. He squeezed his eyes shut and left his mouth completely slack. The ache of his jaw, proof of being well used, made his heartbeat quicken.

Gabe’s hips began to stutter, erratic strokes shallow then too deep. His breath came out in fierce bursts, and he gripped Jack tighter, fingers harsh on his scalp. When the bitter come flooded Jack’s mouth, Gabe stilled then pulled back. Jack let his mouth hang open briefly, showing Gabe what he’d done, then swallowed it without a second thought.

“So damn pretty. Wrecked for me.” Gabe’s voice was a hoarse rasp, like he’d had his throat fucked instead of Jack.

Gabe’s words broke the trance-like state that Jack was floating in, and he opened his eyes. A tear wound its way down his cheek, and he blinked rapidly to stop any more from overflowing. Before Jack could reach up to wipe the tear away, Gabe caught his hand. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jack’s cheek. His tongue darted out and swiped over the damp spot.

“Let’s clean up,” Gabe murmured in Jack’s ear. His heaving chest was slick against Jack’s own sweaty skin.

Gabe took Jack by the hand and led him to the shower. Before he stepped in, Jack caught site of his welted ass in the mirror, the red fading to pink except in places where the skin was raised and faintly purple. Gabe hadn’t broken any skin, so the evidence would be gone soon, one sad side effect of his enhancements. If he wanted lasting marks, they had to be permanent. Jack knew the pain that permanent marks could cause, long after the fact in the perfect lucidity that followed heartbreak.

When the water hit his skin, Jack hissed. The sting almost felt good, but a sick bit of self loathing tempered his arousal. It wasn’t the kind of shame that Gabe would encourage. It was shame at letting someone reduce him to this—a body willing to be used as Gabe wanted, willing to hurt and choke. Willing to beg for more with tears in his eyes.

Jack scrubbed soapy hands over his face, trying to wash away the notion that he’d done something foolish. Sadism had always been part of Gabe, from the time they’d first kissed and he’d caught Jack’s lip between his teeth. This hadn’t been any different. After all, Reaper wouldn’t have asked for permission to hurt him, would he?

“Give that to me,” Gabe said.

He snatched the soap from Jack and worked a rich lather into the washcloth. Jack braced against the shower wall and let Gabe wash him. Efficient but tender, Gabe cleaned every inch of his front, not lingering too long on his half-hard cock or balls. Being allowed to come once was as much benevolence as Jack was likely to get.

Gabe turned Jack around and squeezed soapy water over his back instead of scrubbing the welted skin. Jack flexed his thighs as the suds stung him. He could practically see the smirk on Gabe’s face. After Gabe finished rinsing his legs, he pressed his front flush with Jack’s back and hooked his chin over Jack’s shoulder.

“Wish I could keep you like this. Ruined,” Gabe said. “Guess I’ll just have to do it again.”

Gabe’s breath was hot at Jack’s ear, demanding an answer. Jack made a noise of assent, and Gabe pulled back. He did a cursory job washing himself, ran a soapy hand over the stubble on his head, then shut off the water.

Jack grabbed a threadbare towel for himself and handed the other to Gabe. He dried off quickly, before Gabe could insist on helping. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Gabe to touch him, but he needed to regain some sense of autonomy. Now that the rush of what they’d done waned and levelheaded feelings began to reemerge.

As he slipped his clothes on, a tap outside the window caught Jack’s attention. He leaned in the direction of the noise and cupped his ear, waiting for a second sound, hoping it was just another pigeon.

Gabe crept closer, and Jack put a finger to his lips. The cough that came next was distinctly human. Jack’s heart leaped to the back of his throat.

“Leave. Now,” Gabe mouthed.


	3. Chapter 3

“Go. I’ll meet you by the tracks,” Gabe whispered forcefully.

Jack jumped the ten foot drop from the window. He let his knees buckle as he landed on the asphalt and rolled onto his side. His sturdy jacket took the brunt of the abuse. Wasting no time, he hoisted his pack onto his shoulder and took off. When he made it out of sight of the hostel, he cast a glance behind him. No one followed. He pounded down the pavement, going as fast as he could without drawing attention.

A drunk man staggered toward him down the middle of the sidewalk. He crossed the street. At the main road, he turned right instead of left and took the long way around the industrial park. Each time he approached an intersection, he slowed and scanned for any suspicious figures. The only people left on this side of town come evening were those who clearly had nowhere else to go.

The old rail yard was empty. The only occupants were a handful of rusted out locomotives going nowhere and the creatures that took shelter in their husks. Though the trains hadn’t been used in years, Jack didn’t dare loiter. Instead he followed along the tracks until they started to curve with the stream, then took the same path back. He didn’t want to go where Gabe couldn’t see him.

Terror gnawed at him. What if Gabe got caught? Why did he have to check things out? Why couldn’t he just leave through the far side of the hostel like Jack? Beyond the obvious threat, a more insidious fear lurked. What if Gabe didn’t follow like he promised? He’d tried to leave earlier, and there was nothing to stop him now. Jack might wait here all night, duped and dumped.

Jack checked his watch again. Only half an hour had passed, though it seemed like a week. He couldn’t despair yet. Patience was a virtue Jack had mastered on the battlefield, but all that practice never seemed to matter when Gabe was involved. He wished he hadn’t learned to doubt him.

At the crunch of gravel under foot, Jack edged behind a locomotive, waiting for sight of the intruder before revealing his position. The black jacket wrapping the broad shoulders was undeniably Gabe’s, even if he couldn’t see his face. Jack breathed easily for the first time since he’d heard the eavesdropper cough.

“Gabe,” Jack said, careful not to call too loud.

Gabe whipped around. The shocked looked on his face eased when he saw Jack. He motioned with his hand and started walking along the tracks. Jack jogged to catch up.

“So?” Jack asked.

“Saw someone heading around the corner. No one I recognized. When I got to the street, a van pulled away,” Gabe explained.

“Did they follow you?” Jack looked behind them, at the distant shadows cast by the locomotives.

“No. I backtracked and waited. Why do you think it took me this long to get here?”

Jack didn’t voice his doubts. Gabe had kept his word. That was what mattered.

Gabe pulled his hat down over his ears and cut across the tracks. Jack followed him down to the riverbank. The afternoon sun was withering away, and Jack buried his hands in his pockets to keep warm.

“Come on,” Gabe said and stretched his hand out.

Jack took it but didn’t budge.

“If we run, won’t they just come after us?” Jack asked.

“Maybe,” Gabe admitted.

“Then why don’t we end it now? The two of us, we could take them,” Jack argued.

“Can’t take them. Not just now.” Gabe prodded his chest and made a slight grimace. “Besides, whoever they sent to tail us isn’t worth our time.”

“I thought you were… It looked so much better,” Jack said.

“It’s healed over, but damn, give me more than a day next time you shoot me.” Gabe drew his jacket tighter over the wound.

“Sorry. What was I thinking?” Jack squeezed Gabe’s hand.

Gabe tugged, and Jack let him lead, following him into the ankle deep water. The swift stream was colder then it looked, so cold he soon couldn’t feel his toes. Jack didn’t complain. The water would erase their tracks, and his discomfort was a worthy price.

They waded until the shallow stream branched and only then crossed to the other side. Jack’s wet boots squelched as he climbed the steep bank, but he couldn’t stop to dry his feet. At the top, a trail wound its way up the lightly wooded hill. With his pants sopping wet to his thighs, Jack was thankful that no one was hiking this time of day. They didn’t need any questions.

Something small and striped darted out from the undergrowth and scampered across the path. Jack jumped back and snapped his head from side to side, squinting to see what might lurk off the trail. It was too dark to see more than a few yards. The uneasy idea that beyond that waited the person they sought to outrun wouldn’t leave him alone.

A brilliant light in the distance acted like a north star, drawing them on. Jack hurried faster than he should, and a stray root caught his foot. He stumbled, but before he could fall, Gabe caught him. He looped his arms around Jack’s chest, holding him steady.

Once he’d regained his footing, Jack tried to brush off Gabe’s touch, but Gabe gripped Jack’s hand and didn’t let go. He slowed his own gait, forcing Jack to do the same. Jack no longer felt the urge to sprint with Gabe securing him.

At the edge of the outpost, Gabe stopped them. He lingered in the shadows, observing. Under the lamppost, a park ranger’s car hummed on idle. The nearby shed doors were flung open, and Jack could see the ranger rummaging through the tools.

“Get in,” Gabe muttered under his breath.

Jack opened his eyes wide and raised his brows, but Gabe just nodded, unconvinced by the protest. Though Jack’s damp feet felt cemented in place, he had to acknowledge that spending the night in the chilly wood wasn’t an appealing prospect. When Gabe sprinted toward the truck, Jack was on his heels.

Before the ranger could react, Jack wrenched open the passenger side door and hopped inside. Gabe shifted gears and put his foot on the accelerator. They pulled away, tires grinding on the gravel. The shout of the ranger soon grew distant.

“He’ll get over it,” Gabe said and shrugged.

Jack gripped the door handle and laughed deep in his chest. The way his mouth stretched into a smile felt awkward, like he was lifting a heavy load with a muscle little used.

The truck careened down the narrow forest road. Jack grit his teeth so he wouldn’t beg Gabe to slow down. The headlights illuminated a deep pot hole, and Jack tried not to look at where they were headed. Gabe swerved around it, throwing Jack against the door. He steeled himself and prayed that the suspension was in good order.

“Christ, rolling this thing isn’t going to help,” Jack said.

“Fine.” Gabe slowed to a speed only twice the posted limit.

Once they reached the park entrance, the road flattened, and Jack’s pulse returned to something close to normal. Gabe took a decisive left at the fork. They climbed higher in elevation, and Gabe drove past several turn offs without slowing. Jack glanced in the side view mirror, expecting to see the reflection of a van silently following. The night swallowed the road behind them.

“Where are we going? What’s even out this far?” Jack asked.

“Cabins. Doubt anyone’s using them this time of year,” Gabe explained.

“Too early for skiing,” Jack conceded. “Hope you’re right.”

When the two lane highway ended and a rough forest service road began, Gabe stopped the truck. He cut the engine and left the keys in the ignition. There were no cabins that Jack could see from the window, just an impenetrable wall of trees rising on either side of the road. The active silence of the forest echoed around them.

“Come on,” Gabe said and opened the door.

The full moon hung high in the sky, lending some light to their trek back down the highway. There was no rush this time. Jack slunk two paces behind Gabe, and neither spoke. At the second turn off, they followed a packed dirt driveway down to a clearing where a steep-roofed cabin stood.

No light came from the windows. Gabe signaled for Jack to split up and went around back. Jack crept to the front door and peered inside the window, unable to make out more than vague shapes. He listened intently. The clatter of Gabe picking the lock was the only thing that Jack could hear, until the door creaked open. Gabe cut through the cabin and opened the front door for Jack.

“All clear,” Gabe reassured.

“Thank God.” Jack shut the door behind.

With the threat now sealed outside, Jack could finally relax. He let his pack fall to the floor and leaned against the wood door. As he took a deep breath of musty cedar air, his mind conjured scenes of a youth spent camping. He rested his head against the door and looked at the ceiling. Cobwebs stretched from corner to corner, shimmering in the moonlight.

Gabe placed his palm flat on Jack’s chest, loosely pinning him to the door. Jack’s heart raced under his touch. Gabe must feel it beat, feel him trembling like an animal. He thought he could see Gabe’s eyes gleam in the darkness.

Gabe ran his hand up Jack’s neck to cup his jaw. His fingers splayed and he tilted Jack’s head just so. Jack tried to lean forward to meet Gabe’s lips, but Gabe held him back. Once Jack stopped resisting, Gabe pressed his mouth to Jack’s. His full lips were warm despite the cold. Jack froze under the gentle pressure. He waited for Gabe to deepen the kiss, to part his lips and enter his mouth.

Instead, Gabe pulled back. Jack let out a small sigh of disappointment. Gabe had kept him waiting this long for a proper kiss, and now he’d have to wait even longer. It was a typical play of his, but that didn’t mean Jack had to like it.

“Let’s see if there’s anything to eat,” Gabe said then turned away.

He rummaged through a closet and made a pleased hum when he found an electric lantern. The flickering light led the two of them through the spacious cabin to the kitchen. Gabe set the lantern on the counter. It lit their way as they ransacked opposite cupboards.

In the pantry, Jack discovered cans of miscellaneous fruit and a few jars of pasta sauce. He brushed his thumb over a dusty label and held it to the lantern. Only recently expired. Next to it he stacked rice and dry pasta. Gabe added unopened cereal boxes and granola bars to the pile of spoils.

Whoever owned this cabin had enough to fully outfit it for only three months of the year, enough to let a pantry full of food go bad in the off season. Borrowing from them didn’t bother Jack one bit.

Pots and pans of every size hung on hooks above the counter. Jack picked one up, but Gabe stopped him before he put it on the wood burning stove.

“Fire’s not a good idea,” Gabe warned.

Jack looked from the microwave to the silent refrigerator. “There must be a generator.”

“Who knows if there’s fuel. Plus starting it’ll make a racket,” Gabe reasoned.

“You really think they’re watching this far from the city?” Jack held out hope for heat.

“Do you want to find out?” Gabe answered.

Jack set the pan on the counter with a resigned flourish and turned on the faucet. He let it run from brown to yellow to clear, then scrubbed his hands with a bar of pine fresh soap. The cold well water left his fingers stiff, and he burrowed them into a towel to warm up.

“At least this works,” Jack said, nodding to the sink.

After he guessed the right cupboard, Jack grabbed a glass. He filled it and inspected the water. Maybe a little cloudy, but probably alright, as long as nothing had seeped into the well. It was hard to tell by lantern light, and it was hard to care when his dry throat begged for something, anything liquid. Once he started drinking he didn’t stop until the glass was empty. The slight metallic taste he ignored.

Gabe scrounged through drawers and found a can opener and some forks. Jack supplied the bowls and set two questionable glasses of water on the table. Together they sat down to a meal of syrupy orange segments and dry cereal.

“Don’t think I’ve enjoyed this combo since I was about 12,” Jack said.

“Better than nothing,” Gabe quipped.

Jack chewed a mouth full of cereal. He would have felt bad about the joke if he didn’t resent Gabe’s cutting retort so much. Jack had lived a life without comfort for just as long as Gabe. He didn’t have a monopoly on suffering.

“Do you really want to live like this? Aren’t you tired of running?” Jack asked.

“Of course I am,” Gabe bit out. “Who the hell would want this? But I didn’t choose it.”

Jack hesitated, knowing how well his previous advice had been received. “You can choose to end it,” he dared.

“How? When I killed Antonio, all it did was fuck things up for Blackwatch. It didn’t get us any closer to stopping Talon. Akande was ready to take his place,” Gabe said.

“And you don’t see any benefit to eliminating Akande? Stopping the chaos he’s hell bent on spreading?” Jack asked.

“So I kill him. Then what?” Gabe stabbed an orange slice with his fork.

“At the very least, it would create the right kind of chaos. Give you the chance to disappear, while they’re too busy to notice. His followers, do you think they care about that grand plan of his? Strength through conflict? Bullshit. They’d kill him themselves if they had the chance. Opportunistic criminals is all they are.” Jack strummed his fingers on the tabletop, bracing himself for Gabe’s reply.

“And none of them would ever bother me again? So simple, why didn’t I think of it?” Gabe raised his voice to a level that couldn’t quite be called yelling.

“Maybe not, but they’d probably think twice before fucking with the man who killed not one but two of their leaders. And I’d have your back,” Jack insisted.

“Can we just drop it. My head hurts like hell.”

Gabe pushed his bowl away. His chair scraped on the floor loud enough to make Jack’s ears ring, and he stood up from the table. Without taking the lantern, Gabe retreated into the dark hallway. Must not need the light, Jack realized.

Jack watched him disappear with a helpless sorrow that anchored him to his seat. He wanted to call after him, to take his hand in his own and kiss the palm. But Gabe would brush him off, and he couldn’t stand that rejection right now. Jack just wanted someone to believe in, someone to trust. He’d pinned those hopes on Gabe in their youth and learned how unfair the world was, that good intentions weren’t good enough to keep you from falling. Idols crumbled just like everyone else, given enough pressure. Only a fool would keep believing, but a fragment of hope still lingered.

Distress slowed Jack’s movements as he cleared the table. It didn’t matter if they left a pile of trash for the owner to find come December, but the mindless occupation would give Gabe time to calm down. Once Jack had rinsed the cans and closed the boxes, he grabbed the lantern and followed where Gabe had gone.

The door at the end of the hallway was open. Jack wondered if it was an invitation or carelessness. He held the lantern aloft and peered inside. Gabe lay on the king-sized bed, on top of the covers, still wearing all his clothes. His eyes were closed and his lips parted. He didn’t move when Jack crept closer.

Jack loosened the laces on his boots and slipped them off. His socks were still damp, so he peeled them off too. When he sat on the other side of the bed, he did it lightly to avoid disturbing Gabe. Even if he weren’t truly asleep, Jack wouldn’t want to rile him. He laid down on the plush comforter and stretched his legs. The bed was big enough that he didn’t touch Gabe, though he dearly wanted his warmth. He wrapped his arms around himself instead.

The steady cadence of Gabe’s breath hypnotized him. Weary not from the long journey but from the strain of feeling too much in one day, Jack let his eyes fall closed.

When he opened them, it was still dark. He didn’t know whether he’d slept for minutes or hours. Gabe’s mouth was on his, lips light and soft as silk. Jack smiled into the kiss. Finally, he might get what he’d been waiting for. Gabe’s fingers threaded through his hair. Jack suppressed a gasp, expecting Gabe to twist his fingers, but the cruelty didn’t come.

Gabe licked at the seam of Jack’s lips, asking for entry. Jack let him in. He made himself inviting for Gabe, hoping to convey his apology without words.

Immediately upon being allowed access, Gabe invaded Jack’s mouth, seeking his tongue. The taste of Gabe flooded Jack’s mind with memories of tearful goodbyes and fervent reunions. Gabe sucked Jack’s lower lip between his teeth and nipped playfully, then harder. Jack took a brisk breath through his nose and tried to moderate his response. He didn’t want Gabe to slow down much less stop.

Gabe ran his tongue over the irritated skin. After another deep kiss, he pulled back, panting. The night air was cool on Jack’s swollen, wet lips. He could barely make out Gabe’s features in the dark, but Gabe gripped his chin and moved Jack’s head just so, like he was admiring him in an unseen light.

Jack wanted to touch what he couldn’t see, but Gabe hadn’t given him permission. Jack wouldn’t jeopardize the playful mood Gabe had woken in with an act of insubordination. Failing to find something better to do with his hands, he pressed his palms to the bed. He couldn’t quite keep his fingers still, and they groped at the down comforter.

“Give me those,” Gabe said.

He gathered Jack’s hands in his and brought the ticklish underside of one wrist to his mouth. Just where the black band lay, Gabe pressed his lips. Jack grasped at nothing, and Gabe laced his fingers with his, letting Jack grip tight as he parted his lips and captured the thin skin between his teeth. The shooting pain was followed by a warm glow that settled in Jack’s core.

Gabe sucked hard at the bite mark, but he didn’t break the skin. With the dark ink’s disguise, there would be no red ring of teeth, no purple bruise, but Jack would feel it all the same. The bruise being hidden on skin marked as a sign of possession made it even better. A secret for just the two of them to appreciate.

“Glad you kept them.” Gabe soothed the bite with worshipful kisses.

“Yeah?” Jack nearly moaned.

“Yeah. Prettiest thing I ever owned.”

Gabe’s final word hit like a spark on dry kindling, and Jack’s cock pulsed in his pants. Owned. He’d missed it so damn much. Belonging to Gabe, being used by Gabe, suffering however Gabe wanted him to suffer. Jack bucked his hips, desperate for friction, even if it was just against his jeans.

“No,” Gabe said resolutely. He unbuttoned Jack’s pants and pulled them down to his ankles, leaving him tangled in the fabric.

“Please,” Jack whined, his one source of relief gone. The denial made his cock even harder.

“Please, what?” Gabe asked patiently, pretending he spoke to someone years younger.

“Fuck me, please.” Jack kicked his pants off and slipped his shirt over his head.

“You really want to take me like this? Take it on spit?” Gabe said with a false sense of concern.

“Yes,” Jack answered, confident as ever.

For Gabe, Jack would take it any way it was offered. It might not feel good, not in the way people who weren’t Jack’s kind of fucked up wanted it to feel. It would feel better than that. Being split open as Gabe took what he wanted, Jack’s pain feeding his satisfaction. He’d feel it not just for the minutes it was happening but for days after.

Gabe sat up and stripped off his clothes. Though he hurried, his absence left Jack shivering alone on the bed. When he laid back down, his body radiated heat that Jack crawled toward. He pressed his chest against Gabe’s scarred skin, feeling the rapid rise and fall of Gabe’s rib cage out of rhythm with his own.

Jack got to enjoy Gabe’s body only briefly before Gabe rolled him onto his back. He grabbed Jack’s hands and pinned them to the pillow above his head.

“Be good and keep these here for me.” Gabe pressed emphatically on his wrists.

Jack nodded. Nothing to tie them with, but Jack’s promise worked just as well. He would keep them there even if it meant dislocating a shoulder.

“That’s my boy,” Gabe murmured.

Jack didn’t know what to do with words like those. Words that used to roll off Gabe’s lips so easily when they were together. Sweet enough to bruise his battered heart. Jack assumed this was Gabe’s attempt to make amends, but he wasn’t ready to hear them, not yet.

Those worries fled when Gabe nudged one knee between Jack’s thighs. Jack let his legs fall open. He felt Gabe’s rough fingers ghost over his hole. Gabe pressed the pad of his thumb against Jack’s opening, circling it but not penetrating. Jack tilted his pelvis, just managing to keep his hands above his head.

“Wider,” Gabe commanded.

Jack drew his knees to the side, spreading his legs wider than he needed to, leaving himself utterly open. Gabe spit in his hand and ran it over the head of his cock. Hunger and fear mixed in toxic combination, leaving Jack’s stomach roiling while his cock dripped precome onto his belly.

Jack felt like he was 18 again. Back at the bunks with some guy who’d been eying him all through training. Trying not to make a sound as the guy fumbled between his legs, the slick head of his cock brushing right above his entrance, like he didn’t know where to put it. Back before he learned it didn’t have to hurt like that, unless he needed it to.

“Want to be inside you,” Gabe breathed.

He took his cock in hand and lined himself up. Then he pressed forward, slow but insistent. The thick head penetrated Jack’s tight hole, stretching him so wide it made Jack bite his lip to cope. Gabe was one of the biggest Jack had ever had, and even lubed he sometimes tore Jack. Unsteady breaths didn’t ease the pain.

“Let me hear you,” Gabe said.

“Hurts,” Jack panted.

“I know, baby.” Gabe’s voice was sympathetic, like he wasn’t the one splitting Jack apart with his cock.

Gabe planted his elbows on either side of Jack’s head, penning him in. He rocked his hips slowly deeper, deeper, until he bottomed out. Jack hooked his legs over Gabe’s and held him there. Gabe waited as Jack’s hole spasmed around him. Sweat beaded on Jack’s lip and he fought the instinct to push Gabe off of him. But he wanted to be trapped under him, torn open. He just had to convince his body of that.

When Jack’s legs slackened, Gabe pulled out and pushed back in, closer to gentle than the pounding Jack was expecting. Jack would probably bleed whether he went slow or not, but this way maybe he’d be able to walk tomorrow.

After a few brutally drawn out thrusts, Gabe began to speed up. A needy whine escaped Jack’s throat, as each movement dragged raw on the rim of his hole. He slammed his eyes shut and tried to grind his hard cock against Gabe’s abdomen.

“Come if you can,” Gabe teased.

Jack lifted his hips, but he couldn’t get more than the aching head of his cock to brush against Gabe’s skin. Not enough pressure to get off. Not unless Gabe changed position, and he seemed content to let Jack struggle unsatisfied.

“Please,” Jack cried.

“Not my problem.” Gabe sealed his hand over Jack’s mouth, silencing him.

Jack’s eyes went wide as he fought to get enough air through his nose, breath coming out in harsh bursts. It was almost too much for Jack to handle, too many points of discomfort, but Gabe was close. His hips snapped forward in that reckless way before his climax. Jack could last. He could give Gabe this, exactly how he wanted it.

With a shuddering exhale, Gabe pulsed inside him, filling him up. When he pulled out, the warm come dripped from Jack’s swollen hole. Jack felt a perverse satisfaction at how sloppy Gabe had made him.

“Poor thing,” Gabe said and pressed a chaste kiss to Jack’s forehead, then pet his sweat-damp hair. “You can relax now.”

Jack’s arms ached from keeping his hands where Gabe had directed, and he stretched his shoulders before reaching for his cock. Gabe batted his hand away and wrapped his own around Jack’s cock. Jack never considered his hands delicate, but Gabe’s were bigger, the callouses on his palms more pronounced.

Gabe spit on the cut head of Jack’s cock and spread the mixture of saliva and precome down the shaft. He stroked without teasing or lingering. Jack took what Gabe deemed him worthy of, rocking his hips to meet Gabe’s fist. In an all too brief number of strokes, Jack’s thighs shook and come dribbled onto his stomach. Relief more than pleasure washed over him.

Gabe dragged his fingertips through the pool of Jack’s come, smearing it around before scooping up a finger full.

“Open,” Gabe said.

Jack accepted the bitter fluid and was rewarded with a hum of praise. He ran his tongue over the pad then sucked the finger clean, swallowing thickly. He knew his taste, but his cheeks still grew hot when Gabe repeated the process. Three fingers this time, stretching Jack’s lips around his knuckles. Jack cleaned the fingers until he tasted only Gabe.

“Very good.” Gabe’s praise was filthy, the way he kept it low like someone might be listening.

Gabe let his fingers drop from Jack’s mouth, leaving a trail of saliva in their wake. The come was growing sticky on Jack’s skin, and he edged away from where it had dripped onto the comforter.

“Stay there,” Gabe called behind him, as he climbed off the bed.

Jack’s head felt miles under water, Gabe’s voice a distant echo from land. There was no way he could go anywhere. A current stronger than his will drew him to the depths. Jack stared into the dark and floated outside his own body.

“It’s cold,” Gabe warned.

Jack flinched as Gabe wiped the wet towel over his stomach. Cold was an understatement. It was freezing, but better than nothing, and by the time Gabe ran it over his softened cock, it had warmed up a little.

“Let me look,” Gabe said. He settled between Jack’s knees and pushed them up, arranging him for inspection.

Jack hugged his thighs to his chest, giving Gabe better access to his hole. He felt hot all over. He knew how debauched he must look, still leaking Gabe’s come. Gabe grabbed his ass and pulled him farther apart, then cleaned him off. The towel was rough as sandpaper, and the water stung when it dripped on the raw rim. He didn’t quite remember how much it hurt his first time, but it couldn’t have been much worse than this. He’d asked for this though, knowing full well it would leave him limping.

“A little blood, but nothing major. Must have been a while?” Gabe guided his legs back down to the bed and tossed the towel into the bathroom.

“Proud of yourself?” Jack ribbed with no ill intent. He was proud to have taken it.

“A little,” Gabe admitted.

With no warning, Gabe scooped Jack up in his arms. Jack held fast while Gabe pulled the comforter back one handed. He laid Jack down on the bed and crawled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Jack and pulling him close to his chest.

Jack shivered violently, even with Gabe draped over him and the blanket over the both of them. He reminded himself that he was safe, that no one knew where they were. His conscious effort to halt the shivering only made it worse.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Gabe repeated, lips against the shell of Jack’s ear, kissing intermittently.

He ran his hands up and down Jack’s arms, like the cold really was the problem. Jack curled in on himself, drawing away from Gabe, though he didn’t mean to. Gabe circled one hand loosely around Jack’s throat. Not tight enough to obstruct his breathing, just a gentle massage. Jack leaned his head against Gabe’s shoulder and let Gabe pet him above his collarbone. Gabe’s fingers traced the space that had once been occupied by a chain of steel.

Jack had worn leather bands there for other men, for a night or a weekend, but never a permanent fixture, not for anyone but Gabe. He stopped himself from lingering too long on the notion of how it might feel again. Thoughts like that were beyond masochism.

The final thing Jack recalled before falling asleep was Gabe letting his thumb rest on the hollow of his collarbone. It was the precise space where the lock had hung, holding his collar in place.

When Jack woke, sunlight streamed in the wall of windows, but he felt far colder than he had the night before. The deep ache between his legs throbbed as he curled up tighter with the blanket. He rolled over to find the space behind him empty. There was no indication that Gabe had been more than a phantom lying beside him. He sat up and looked around the bedroom. Only Jack’s clothes were strewn on the floor, Gabe’s nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he was in the kitchen, eating cereal at a more appropriate hour? Jack jumped out of bed, but before he made it to the door, he noticed a torn scrap of paper sitting on the nightstand. The writing was in Gabe’s slanted scrawl.

_I can’t do this to you. You’ll never be safe._

Jack cursed Gabe’s cowardice. Leaving a note. Creeping away before dawn. No chance for Jack to tell him that there was no such thing as a safe path forward, because any path that led away from Gabe wasn’t worth walking. Jack didn’t care about Gabe’s misguided moral compass. If Jack had wanted a life free from danger, he wouldn’t have joined Overwatch. He’d risked his neck for things that meant a hell of a lot less to him than Gabe.

Amid his outrage, an undercurrent of regret weighed on Jack, for the way he’d demanded that Gabe confront Talon. Had that pushed him away? Maybe if he’d kept his mouth shut, Gabe would still be here. He’d meant to encourage Gabe to fight against his resignation. To make him understand that he deserved more than an existence scraping by in the shadows. But in the same breath he’d bossed Gabe like he was his commanding officer.

Jack’s mind spiraled downward, and he wondered if this supposed concern for his safety was just a pretense. Gabe had left before, and though he blamed the final time on O'Deorain, Gabe’s tendency to withdraw had lasted as long as their relationship. It manifested in little ways, a closed door or sullen silence, more often than grand blowouts.

Was it true concern or cold feet? The only way to find out was to find Gabe. Jack wasn’t going to let a piece of paper end this. Not when he’d just found what he’d thought was lost forever.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ana, it’s me,” Jack huffed, out of breath. His fist rapped on the reinforced door for a second time.

The deadbolt scraped as it was pulled back, and the door opened a fraction. Ana’s good eye appeared in the crack. After a brief assessment, she unlatched the door guard to let Jack in.

“The tracker said there’s movement. Do you have the details? My access got cut when I left the city.” Jack’s words flowed so fast they were barely intelligible, but he didn’t know how to slow down.

“Nice to see you too, Jack.” Ana put her hand on Jack’s shoulder in greeting.

“I’m sorry.” Jack held back the excuses he wanted to make.

“Sit down.” Ana motioned toward the shabby couch.

The place Ana had found was a step up from the hostel where Jack had been hiding out, and in a better part of town. She wasn’t notable like he was, had never been made a statue. It didn’t matter if people saw her at the corner store.

A kettle whistled on a small stove, and Ana took down a second mug and tossed a tea bag in. She filled them both with boiling water, then carried them to the couch.

Jack took a seat and accepted the mug. He closed his eyes and inhaled the steam. It felt like the first breath he’d taken that day. The scent of mint tea calmed him, if only slightly.

“What happened to watch and wait?” Ana perched on the arm of the couch and blew on the hot tea.

“Things changed. Gabe… I think he’s gone after Akande,” Jack blurted.

“Gabriel, gone after Doomfist?”

Jack nodded. He hadn’t meant to push Gabe to do it alone. After all his talk about ending Talon, he’d intended to be there by Gabe’s side. He could have spun the situation to their advantage, helped pick the right time, place, and weapon. Now Gabe might be walking into a trap.

“Why would Gabriel do that? He was the one who broke him out in the first place. Maybe he’s gone back to Talon,” Ana argued.

“He can’t go back. They’re on to him. Because of me.” Jack did a poor job hiding his desolation.

“They’re after you too?” Ana said, giving him a look like she was scolding a child.

“Yeah,” Jack admitted.

“Then why go after him? If he’s doing this to protect you, why not let him? He owes you that.”

“I’m not letting Gabe go on a suicide mission by himself.” Jack gripped the chipped mug so tight he thought he might break it.

“Hardly a suicide mission. Gabriel can fight his own battles.” Ana took a sip of her tea, unconcerned.

“But—”

“What do you think you’ll be able to do?” Ana countered before Jack could provide a defense.

“Are you saying I’m a liability in a fight?” Jack’s voice grew louder. He didn’t want to be upset with Ana of all people. Gabe was one of the only things that had ever threatened their friendship. Jack didn’t like how he behaved when he felt threatened.

“Of course not. Things may not be what they seem though,” Ana said.

She set her mug down and sat on the cushion next to Jack. The silence while she waited for Jack’s reply was excruciating. He set his mug down as well, having not taken a single sip of the tea.

“If it were me going after Talon, you’d have my back.” Jack looked at the coffee table with a grim face.

“That’s not a fair comparison, and you know it. You never gave me a reason not to trust you. Gabriel has given dozens,” Ana insisted.

“I trust him,” Jack said.

“We both trusted him, at one time. It led to this.”

Ana gestured to the air between them. Her eye, Jack’s scars. That wasn’t fair either, pinning all the suffering caused by Talon on Gabe. Yes, he’d been an in for Talon, his willingness to look the other way in order to gain the advantage he wanted. But every member of Overwatch had made choices with consequences that didn’t turn out the way they intended.

“I know you can’t forgive him. I don’t expect you to. But I won’t give up on him,” Jack said.

“I don’t want to hear about you on the news. Hear when they find your body the next day.” Ana’s tone tugged at Jack’s heart.

“You won’t.”

It wasn’t a promise he could make for certain, but Jack said it all the same. Ana gave him a measured look, like she wanted to indulge the lie but couldn’t quite do so.

“Please, just give me the coordinates,” Jack maintained.

“Very well. Make your own mistakes.”

Ana grabbed her pad and waited for it to complete the authentication scan. When she held out a hand, Jack gave her his device. He couldn’t sit still, and his legs jostled with anxious energy. While she input the coordinates, he craned his neck to glance at the map.

“Not that far,” Jack reassured himself.

“These are as of 19:00,” Ana warned as she handed him back his pad.

Twenty minutes ago. He’d be there before the hour if he sped.

“Thank you. I know I’m not making this easy. I’ll make it up next time I see you.” Jack wished he’d never had to burden Ana like this.

Ana rubbed her forehead and sighed. She reached for Jack, putting her hands on his stubble covered cheeks, and rested her head against his chest.

“Let there be a next time,” Ana said.

Jack covered her hands with his own and nodded. There were no words that would comfort her, and his chest was so tight he wouldn’t be able to speak if he tried. He gathered her hands together and put them in her lap. She dismissed him with a small nod, like she had in tense moments before.

Jack stood and walked briskly to the door. He didn’t look behind him. He wouldn’t have been able to shut the door otherwise.

The stolen truck waited outside the building. Jack wasn’t sure how Gabe had made it so far, so fast, without taking it. He’d counted his blessings when he found the truck where they’d abandoned it the night before, the gas tank half full.

Jack merged onto the freeway. He tailgated the car in front of him and swerved into the express lane at the first opportunity. Getting pulled over wouldn’t help, and the truck was probably reported stolen by this point, so he kept it at ten over the limit.

The signs along the road blurred together, almost indecipherable. His mind was occupied by images of Gabe lying face down on the pavement. He scanned each marker for the exit number to the old air field. A horn blared as he cut off the car behind him and barreled down the exit. He ditched the truck just past the offramp and pocketed the keys.

Trees lined the north side of the road, and he crossed under their cover. After strapping his rifle to his back, he took off running. The drone of a propeller grew louder, until it seemed like it was inside Jack’s head. When the road opened up onto the runway, Jack froze and watched the small plane take off.

Through the thin cover of trees, he could see the lights on at one of the hangars. The runway was too small for commercial planes, and with night settling in, it was almost abandoned. Except for the black helicopter that sat idle outside the hangar, and the handful of armed figures in paramilitary dress.

Jack didn’t dare cut across the air field. He stalked through the trees, skirting the edge of the hangar. A shouting match between indistinct voices became clear once he reached the structure. Jack pressed his back to the corrugated metal and listened.

“You lie to me Reyes?”

“He’ll be here.”

“It’s been two hours. I don’t like waiting.”

“And I do? Can’t schedule this shit.”

“Fifteen more minutes, and I’m leaving.”

“He’ll be here.”

Jack’s mouth flooded with saliva, and he could taste the bile from his stomach as it bubbled up. He heaved forward, steading himself before he fell over. Gabe had sold him out.

His head pounded, and it seemed like the ground moved beneath his feet. The adrenaline that had carried him here vanished. He wanted to let his knees buckle, curl up, give up on everything. What was there left to fight for?

Then Jack thought of Ana’s sorrowful smile, her small shoulders on which such a heavy burden rested. She’d lost more than he had, and yet she kept going. Jack might not be able to save Gabe, but he could end Akande right now.

Infiltrating Akande’s compound was near impossible. He’d mapped it out. These were the best odds he’d ever have. He wouldn’t slink away and waste the chance.

Jack sneaked around the edge of the hangar, looking for an angle on Akande. He laid his steps precisely to make no sound on the crisp, dry grass. The guards stood near the helicopter, their backs to the hangar. They watched the road for signs of Jack, unaware that they’d already missed him. The steel barrels of their assault rifles reflected the blazing lights from the runway.

Jack took a position deeper in the trees. That way, he could see the interior of the hangar without exposing himself to the guards. Though Jack was concealed by shadow, Gabe somehow locked eyes with him.

The momentary widening of his eyes was the only indication that he recognized Jack. His expression didn’t change. He didn’t say a word to Akande. Instead, he paced a little farther left, giving Jack the easiest shot of his life.

Jack raised his rifle.

The rocket tore through Akande’s skull, splattering blood and bits of bone against the hangar wall. He made no sound in death, just a resolute thump as he crumpled to the ground. The fist of his gauntlet unfolded. In death, his tremendous strength was rendered useless.

The guards opened fire at Gabe, but he shadowstepped preemptively. The bullets pierced the metal walls, and Gabe’s blurry form reappeared at the edge of the hangar. Without his shotguns, he had no means of retaliation, only evasion.

Jack shot from a distance, hitting two guards in the chest. They staggered and fell, blood flowing through their fingers as they clutched at the grievous wounds.

The remaining guards fled to the helicopter, screaming for the pilot to take off. Loyal only to their own skins, not Akande, now that he was a memory rather than a threat.

Once the helicopter roared overhead, Jack closed in on the injured guards. Blood pooled around their bodies, a crimson lake growing larger on the asphalt. Neither showed signs of life, though their vacant eyes seemed to stare at him. Their young faces were forever frozen in time. He shot them again, this time in the head, obliterating any chance of survival.

Jack turned his back on the disaster he’d wrought and walked to where Gabe stood, watching over Akande’s corpse. Gabe studied Akande like he might get up and attack them, even with half his head missing.

“Satisfied now?” Gabe’s voice was completely flat. A voice typically reserved for the most mundane topics.

“You told me not to follow,” Jack said.

“I know you better than that,” Gabe replied.

Emotional whiplash struck Jack. He struggled to make sense of the situation. Gabe had done what Jack had asked of him, but he’d done it his way. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. It wasn’t the first time.

“You didn’t need to leave me behind,” Jack yelled. His temper was too hot to match Gabe’s controlled rage.

“Couldn’t exactly take you with me to meet Akande. Not when I told him I was baiting you. Convinced him to come out here, if I gave him my guns. Your gun though, you needed it.” Gabe kept staring at the corpse, rather than face Jack.

“You could have at least let me know it was trap,” Jack said.

“Akande would’ve smelled it.” Gabe nudged the lifeless body with the toe of his boot.

“How?” Jack lashed out. Yes, Gabe had led Blackwatch, but Jack wasn’t incapable of deception.

Gabe finally turned to Jack. His eyes were red, like he might start crying if he were anyone else.

“You’re too careless about your own safety. For someone else though, you’d never—”

“You could have gotten yourself killed.” Jack stopped himself. He didn’t have it in him to argue with Gabe.

“I knew I could depend on you.”

Gabe reached for Jack’s hand but didn’t close the distance completely. He waited, looking from Jack’s hand to his face and back. Jack met Gabe halfway and accepted the touch. Gabe squeezed Jack’s palm then pulled him away from Akande’s body.

Together, they walked into the night.

~~~

The sun sagged between the mountains. The peaks had become craggy silhouettes against a fading mauve sky. In the valley below, long shadows blanketed the fir trees. The twilight stretched up to the porch where Jack sat. A lantern on the table beside him kept the darkness at bay. The glow illuminated the book he was no longer reading.

Jack didn’t want to go in yet. The air was still warm, and the gentle breeze felt like an embrace. He rocked in the wooden chair and adjusted his glasses, finding where he left off on the page.

Jack hadn’t experienced peace like this since he was a boy in Indiana, in those innocent days before the threat of war. A war that had never stopped taking from him. Took his youth, took his faith in humanity. Had it been worth it, committing himself to a cause that built him into an idol only to cast him aside, presumed dead?

If he could speak to that boy now, he might tell him to stay on the farm. Let other kids with heroic dreams sacrifice themselves for the good of the nation. Let their loved ones cry when they’re handed a flag and told to be proud of what they’d lost.

But then he wouldn’t have met Gabe. He would have been an incomplete person, hiding his needs to make life easier, stuck in the middle of nowhere.

The screen door creaked open, and Jack closed his book. Gabe didn’t make a sound, and Jack wondered how long he’d been standing there before the door announced his presence. When Jack turned to look at him, he caught a fragment of bare fondness in his eyes, before it turned into something more mischievous.

“Why don’t you come in?” Gabe said.

“You have something in mind?” Jack sat on the edge of his seat, forgetting all about his book.

“Yeah, I do,” Gabe teased.

Jack folded his reading glasses and put them in his pocket. He knew it was best to wait for Gabe’s initiation. Sometimes Gabe needed nights alone, days alone. He’d come out of his isolation maimed on the inside, with raw nerves that needed time to heal. So Jack would wait.

Other times Gabe couldn’t stand Jack being out of his sight. He’d call for him from another room, and Jack would rush to his side.

When Jack made it to the doorstep of the old farm house, Gabe pulled him in for a kiss. His lips seemed preoccupied, a grin behind them. It was over before Jack could even wish for more.

Gabe walked through the door. The narrow hallway couldn’t accommodate both of them, so Jack followed behind.

“You’re acting awfully suspicious,” Jack said, knowing he was unlikely to get any clarity.

“Am I?” Rather than turn to address Jack, Gabe spoke to the air in front of him. He was terrible at feigning innocence.

Gabe led Jack to the kitchen. The light fixture over the table was on, though they had finished dinner an hour ago. In the center of the table sat a black box, broad in width but no more than an inch tall. Light reflected off the glossy finish, making it seem to glow.

Jack stared at it, too afraid to approach. Gabe stepped to the side and nudged his head toward the box.

“Go on. Open it,” Gabe said, when Jack didn’t take the hint. He leaned back against the counter and waited.

Jack was positive of what was inside. That certainty didn’t make him any less nervous as he reached for the box. It was lacquered wood, painted with a fine geometric pattern, beautiful in its simplicity. His clumsy fingers struggled to remove the slippery lid on the first attempt.

When Jack managed to set aside the lid, a pang of longing made him reel like he was in danger. A continuous silver band sat atop the black silk lining. It was more stark and severe than Jack had expected. He set the box down, afraid to touch the metal.

Jack’s old collar was melted in a pile of rubble in Switzerland, along with the other trappings of his life as Commander Morrison. If things hadn’t ended between them before the explosion brought headquarters down, he might have been foolish enough to try to dig it out of the debris, to keep part of Gabe with him.

That one had been discreet, a length of chain long enough to be hidden beneath his shirt collar, just barely. If he stretched, a hint of the chain was visible, but he could pass it off as jewelry. Whether everyone believed that, he doubted, but Jack had been able to wear it daily. It was a constant reminder, though Gabe had liked something more substantial when they were alone.

This one was rock solid. Thick gauge metal fastened together at two points, with no way to remove it except by using a tool. Small enough in diameter that it would sit above his shirt, exceptionally obvious and unmistakably not a necklace. Jack’s stomach fluttered at the thought of wearing it while working outside, though the chance of someone randomly turning down their dusty road was scant.

“Where did you get it?”

Jack hadn’t noticed any unexpected packages, and the middle of Montana wasn’t a likely spot to find a collar like that.

Gabe refused to answer, a sly look on his face.

Jack rolled his eyes at the evasion. It was the sort of response Gabe liked to force out of him. Sass that would get him in trouble later.

“You want to wear it?” Gabe asked, his warm eyes narrowing.

“Of course I do,” Jack quipped.

“Then kneel for it, ask nicely, and maybe you’ll get it.”

Jack knelt with practiced ease, though the hard tile in the kitchen would leave his bones aching. He spread his thighs wide but not wanton and rested his hands palm-up on his knees. Before he looked at Gabe, he corrected his posture, canting his chest forward a bit, eager for Gabe’s eyes on him.

“Please, Gabe,” Jack asked in his sweetest tone.

Gabe drummed his fingers on his pant leg, like he was truly having trouble deciding whether Jack deserved it.

“Please, let me wear your collar,” Jack begged.

“Very good.” The smile that spread across Gabe’s face was pure indulgence.

He pulled an Allen wrench from his pocket and took the band apart efficiently. Jack sat still as a stone while Gabe fit the collar around his neck. The cold metal was a startling contrast to the heat of Gabe’s touch, making it a challenge not to move. He focused on the pain in his knees as a cheap distraction.

Gabe threaded the screws through the band and tightened them, locking the collar in place, putting Jack in his place.

Jack swallowed. The collar was snug enough to be a notable presence, but not tight enough to restrict his movement.

Gabe stood back and looked down at Jack. He looked at him like a king might look at a pile of tribute, reveling in what he’d taken from another man.

“Perfect. Fuck, you’re so perfect like that. On your knees. Properly owned.”

The praise made blood rush to Jack’s already swelling cock. He lifted his chin to feel the pressure of the collar on his throat. His cock throbbed in response, leaking inside his briefs. He wanted to beg Gabe to touch him, give him some relief, but he knew that any request for pleasure would encourage Gabe to prolong his denial.

“You need to work on that attitude though, don’t you?” Gabe chastised.

Jack was confused by Gabe’s sudden change in mood. That confusion gave way to clarity when Jack remembered how Gabe had set him up, goading him to hang himself.

“Ready for the consequences?” Gabe asked.

Jack nodded, and Gabe rolled his shirt sleeves up past his elbows. He took Jack’s correction seriously.

“Set your jaw,” Gabe said and stretched his fingers.

Jack aligned his teeth without clenching too hard. His eyelids floated closed, putting distance between the world and his mind.

“Eyes open. No hiding.” Gabe placed his left hand on Jack’s cheek, keeping his head in place.

Jack obeyed. He couldn’t see Gabe’s face from where he knelt, head forward, but Gabe could see his, and that was what mattered.

The first slap barely stung. Jack knew it wasn’t an indication of leniency to come. It was to test his reaction. If Jack flinched or pulled away, Gabe might stop, but Jack squared his shoulders, ready to take what he deserved.

The second slap cracked across his cheekbone and struck like thunder in his ear. The hurt was so bad it made Jack’s eyes water. He fought to keep them open, so Gabe could see the tears pool, admire the evidence of Jack’s pain as he marred his face.

The third would have knocked his head to the side if Gabe weren’t holding him in place. Gabe gave Jack time to recover after that one, but he didn’t take his steadying hand off the opposite cheek. It wasn’t over yet. Jack’s face felt scorched and he opened his eyes wide, trying to dry them.

The final slap stunned Jack. Gabe’s hand landed hard across the whole of his cheek and mouth. A sound between a whimper and a gasp escaped his throat, and he shuddered, unable to tell whether the pain was too much or just enough. Gabe dropped his hands from Jack’s face and stepped back to survey his work.

Jack could taste blood, could feel it bead on his cracked lip. With his hands still on his knees, he wasn’t able to wipe it away before it dripped down his chin.

Risking another reprimand, Jack stole a glance up at Gabe’s face. His pupils were blown wide, consuming all but a sliver of the iris. Jack swore they glowed red like molten iron, but he looked back to his knees before he could be sure.

Gabe crouched in front of him, putting his face on Jack’s level. He reached out with both hands, but Jack drew back and turned his sore cheek away from Gabe, anticipating another slap. He felt guilty for reacting to Gabe’s touch that way, even if it was out of instinct. He gave himself until the count of three to pull it together. When he faced Gabe, the ravenous look in his eyes told Jack that he had done no wrong.

“Let me make it better,” Gabe said, his voice ragged.

This time, Jack stopped from recoiling when Gabe touched his chin. He angled Jack’s head up and kissed just below his split lip. The kiss was open mouthed and messy, but Jack didn’t mind if Gabe made a mess.

Gabe’s tongue swept away the trail of blood. When he pulled back, his lips were stained crimson. He leisurely licked the blood from them, then gave Jack a lingering kiss on the lips. The fissure stung when Gabe probed it. His tongue forced it’s way into Jack’s mouth, tangling with Jack’s, letting him taste his own blood.

Jack moaned faintly into Gabe’s mouth. Gabe used his forefinger and thumb to force Jack’s jaw open wider, digging into the meat of his cheeks. He kissed Jack deeply, but it still wasn’t enough for Jack.

All too soon, Gabe put his hand on Jack’s chest, preventing Jack from following when he broke the kiss. Jack begged with his eyes, wanting Gabe on him, inside him. It was a pointless plea, but one Gabe rewarded with a condescending pat on Jack’s aching cheek. A reminder, in the unlikely event that Jack had forgotten who made the decisions here.

“Strip,” Gabe commanded. “Stand up. Go slow.”

Gabe pulled a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. He let his legs fall open and made no attempt to disguise the hard cock tenting his jeans.

Jack didn’t stand as easily as he had knelt. He gripped the edge of the table to steady himself, pins prickling his legs, asleep from sitting nicely for Gabe. Once he was sure he wouldn’t fall over, he stepped forward to give Gabe a better view. Under the bright kitchen lights, he popped open the top button of his shirt.

There was no way Jack could put on a show. He’d never be that brazen, and Gabe understood that, but Jack took his time. Stretching his arms above his head to show off his taut stomach. Rolling his pants down, bent at the waist instead of the knees.

Gabe rubbed his erection through his jeans, languid like he didn’t care about getting off any time soon. Jack was an object to savor. He didn’t need to hurry.

“Come here.” Gabe beckoned with one finger.

Jack shivered as he set the last of his clothing on the table. A few quick strides brought him within reach of Gabe. It wasn’t the cool evening air that made his skin break out in goose pimples. Gabe made the affliction worse by tracing his fingertip along the collar.

“Looks so good on you, baby,” Gabe said. “Should keep you like this all the time.”

Jack blushed at the thought of this being his daily state. Gabe sitting around in his jeans, while he was naked at his feet. Between his collar and his wrists, there would be no question about what Jack was.

“Would you like that? No reason you need clothes most of the time, is there?”

Jack nodded. This was nothing like when they shared quarters at HQ. When they’d had to pretend that what was between them was normal.

“I asked you a question,” Gabe enunciated.

“Yes, if that’s… If it’s what you want,” Jack managed.

“Naked and collared, easy access. That’s how you belong.”

Gabe ran his hand down Jack’s torso. His short nails scraped, creating ribbons of pink skin. He stopped just above Jack’s cock and rubbed the bare skin where he’d been shaved. His touch was too firm to tickle, but it had Jack squirming regardless. Jack’s hard cock bobbed within an inch of Gabe’s palm, close but not close enough.

Jack tilted his hips forward, trying to feel Gabe’s hand on him. Gabe responded by skipping over his cock entirely. Instead, he slid his hand between Jack’s legs to tug at his heavy sack. His loose grip soon became a vise. A bolt of need went straight to Jack’s cock, making his balls twitch in Gabe’s hand.

Jack’s knees wobbled, and he whined. Precome beaded at the tip of his cock, a drop of it falling to the floor. Gabe kept the pressure on his balls, but circled his other hand around Jack’s cock. Jack jolted, surprised by the attention.

Suddenly, Gabe’s hot mouth engulfed his length, meeting his hand to envelop all of Jack. Gabe’s eyes fluttered closed, and he laved his tongue over the head of Jack’s cock. Jack curled his toes and tried not to thrust to the back of Gabe’s throat, tried to appreciate the slick velvet of his tongue, as it was given to him. The view of Gabe’s plush lips stretched around him left Jack throbbing.

A sharp tug on his sack made Jack cry out. He was pinned between the overwhelming pleasure Gabe’s mouth and the brutality of his hand. He couldn’t withdraw from one without ending the other.

Before Jack could come, Gabe pulled away. Jack dug his fingers into the muscle of his thighs, resisting the urge to finish himself off. His willpower was strong, and Gabe had already given him was more than he was used to. His cock often ignored, his orgasm reduced to the incidental—or a form of entertainment for Gabe.

“Don’t look so disappointed. Maybe I’ll let you come when I done with you,” Gabe said.

He pried Jack’s hand from his thigh and slipped a small tube into it. Jack opened his palm. He looked at the lube like it was an object that he’d never before seen.

“Get yourself ready, before I tie your hands,” Gabe directed.

“Here?” Jack asked.

“Don’t see why not.” Gabe sat back and crossed his arms.

Jack looked around the kitchen, as if a private spot might materialize out of thin air if he wished for it. Time dragged on, and the predicament didn’t change. He’d have to do it here, in front of Gabe. It wasn’t like he hadn’t prepped himself in front of Gabe before, but those times were usually in the bathroom, or when he was lying down waiting to get fucked. Not standing under what felt like a spotlight with Gabe seated as his audience.

He unscrewed the cap of the lube and squeezed a liberal amount onto two fingers. If Gabe asked for this, he could do it.

His hand slipped between his legs, and he widened his stance slightly. It wasn’t easy to relax with Gabe smirking up at him, making him feel like prey, but he made it past the tight ring of muscle. He twisted and stretched his fingers, then curled them forward to find his prostate. Imagining Gabe’s cock in place of his fingers, Jack rubbed the sensitive spot. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he must look. A slut making himself ready to fuck.

“Good boy,” Gabe said abruptly. “Wash off and meet me in the bedroom.”

Jack straightened up when Gabe walked past him, anticipating a parting touch. Gabe didn’t come within an arm’s length of Jack. He just headed through the doorway, practically ignoring him. Gabe wove threat and relief together in a way that intoxicated Jack, leaving him drunk for whatever might come next.

Jack ran cool water over his hands and splashed it on his sweat-damp brow. The cheek that Gabe had abused was hardly tender now, though his split lip smarted when he took a sip of water. A spot of blood bloomed on the towel he used to dry his face.

Gabe wouldn’t have given Jack a task if wanted him to follow straight away, but making Gabe wait too long wasn’t wise either. Jack tossed the towel in the hamper then turned off the kitchen lights.

Metal restraints lay on the bed, a bed they shared unless Gabe was feeling particularly tyrannous. Jack had never seen them before. He was used to sturdy but simple leather straps that buckled neatly around his limbs. These were hinged cuffs, polished with a beveled edge. Four padlocks sat nearby, ready to lock Jack in.

Being commander had meant that Jack could be called upon at any time. He had to be ready at a moment’s notice. They’d worked within that reality, favoring easy to escape solutions over complex rope or finicky locks. Now it didn’t matter if Jack was bound for days.

“Lie down,” Gabe directed. He sat at the foot on the bed and gestured to the space in front of him.

Jack climbed onto the black duvet and crawled to where Gabe waited. He was expecting to be cuffed straight away. Instead, Gabe pet his hair, his fingers gently combing through the silver strands. He placed a tender kiss on the crown of Jack’s head, another at his temple. Jack melted under the ticklish brush of his beard.

“Give me your hands,” Gabe coaxed, like he was asking Jack to do him a favor.

Jack offered his hands. It put him in a precarious position, but before he could tip over, Gabe maneuvered Jack so he lay in his lap. He cradled Jack’s wrists, running his thumbs over the tattoos, admiring what he’d done to Jack all those years ago. Emotion swelled in Jack’s throat.

The metal covered most of the tattoo, though the blurry edge peeked out. Gabe slipped the heavy padlock through the closure, then turned the key. Even without the cuffs attached to anything, Jack’s wrists felt leaden, weighed down by the metal.

Once he’d locked Jack’s ankles, Gabe fixed the cuffs to the welded bed frame. Jack let Gabe position him how he fancied. Gabe gave Jack a few inches of play, but there was no way Jack would be able to close his spread legs.

“Test it. Fight it,” Gabe said.

Jack pulled, not as hard as he could, for he didn’t want to escape, but enough to give the setup a real test. The cuffs didn’t budge. The metal bit into his hands and feet, and he immediately learned how easily the cuffs could bruise him.

“Fuck, don’t you look pretty struggling.”

Gabe gave a taunting slap between Jack’s thighs. The chains binding Jack creaked against the bed frame as he tried to pull his legs together.

“Can’t go anywhere. Just have to lie there and get used.”

It took little time for Gabe to slip off his t-shirt and jeans. He made no attempt at a striptease, but Jack still admired the bare honey skin he could see. Gabe’s broad, well muscled shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. His powerful thighs flexed and between them, his thick cock was fully hard.

The bullet hole in his chest was the deepest among a mass of scars, though certainly not the biggest. It had healed over white, but Jack’s eye focused on it like he could still see the blood. He looked at Gabe’s face instead.

Gabe wore an expression that would have frightened Jack when they first met. He would have seen the hardness in his eyes as callous rather than covetous. It promised the fulfillment of unconventional desire.

The bed shifted as Gabe knelt between Jack’s legs. He slipped his hands under Jack’s ass and lifted his hips, giving him better access to his hole. The head of his cock rubbed against his opening, teasing Jack.

“Please,” Jack moaned.

He tried to move his hips. There was no way he could, struggling at the end of his restraints. As usual, he got the opposite of what he pleaded for. Rather than burying himself in Jack’s hole, Gabe pulled away.

“It’s not about what you want. You know that,” Gabe said.

He stretched out beside Jack and wrapped his hand around Jack’s neck. With the collar sandwiched between his palm and Jack’s skin, the hold was punishing in an entirely new way. The metal bit like a dagger at his throat. Jack thrashed, pulling at the restraints, nowhere to go.

“Need to say something?” Gabe asked. He let up enough for Jack to say the words that would make it stop.

Jack shook his head.

“Ask me for it.” Gabe wouldn’t accept silence.

“Do it,” Jack gasped.

He’d done it to himself in the image of Gabe so many times, but he never got it quite right. Gabe’s hands were made for his neck.

Gabe applied pressure, bit by bit, until the labored thud of Jack’s own heartbeat was everything. Jack was thankful for the cuffs, because he wouldn’t have been able to stay still otherwise. He managed to keep the panic at bay as Gabe bore down with his hand. He tried to breathe. A rattle in his throat was all that came out. The surge of a falling avalanche filled his head. Tears spilled over, and his vision went dark around the edges.

“I love you like this.”

Jack heard it whispered in his ear, coming from someplace distant.

Gabe released his hold just before Jack went out completely. Jack gulped down air, coughing and wheezing. He couldn’t stop the hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

“That’s it, cry if you need to.”

Gabe’s fist brushed against Jack’s thigh as he stroked his own cock, getting off on taking Jack to the breaking point. His other hand fluidly switched from hurting Jack to soothing him. He caressed Jack’s face, his fingers playing with the tears that dripped from Jack’s jaw and fell onto his sweaty chest.

Jack lived for these moments. Moments where Gabe broke him down so far he cracked, leaving a fissure that would remain forever raw, even once Gabe brought him back together. A hint of fear would remain whenever Gabe put a finger to his throat. Jack found himself addicted to that fear.

Once Jack’s breathing returned to normal, Gabe left his side. He settled back between Jack’s legs and pressed the wet head of his cock to Jack’s hole. In one determined thrust, Gabe filled him all the way to the hilt. Jack didn’t have enough left in him to fight the sudden intrusion. He laid slack and received.

“Never prettier than right now,” Gabe murmured, his cock buried deep in Jack.

Jack knew his face was ruined. Red and streaked with tears. Bruised and bloody from his split lip. He beamed up at Gabe regardless, and a faint smile formed on Gabe’s lips.

Gabe roughly stroked Jack’s neglected cock in time with his rapid thrusts. Jack had spent so long on edge that the lightest touch would have been enough. He seized and came almost instantly, his ejaculate coating him all the way up to his chest. His tight hole contracted around Gabe’s cock.

It didn’t take Gabe long to follow. Not after he’d wound himself up watching Jack all evening. His eyes slammed shut, and he pulsed inside Jack with his head hung low.

They recovered together, breathing in tandem. The two of them were all of existence. Gabe’s face slowly relaxed, like a drug was suffusing through his body. He opened his eyes, but they didn’t shine with life. Rather, a darkness emanated from deep within Gabe. In that darkness, Jack felt himself snared.

**Author's Note:**

> A very lightly used [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sinnotalone).


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